Queen of Wands (The Tree of Ages Series Book 4) Page 14

  She started to shake her head again, then stopped. Her shoulders slumped. “Oighear is still alive. That’s why the Faie are tracking me.”

  “Yes,” he replied, having come to the same conclusion. “Now we must go.”

  “No,” she argued, her voice trembling. “I will not leave everyone behind. If the Faie find them first . . . ” she shook her head. “I must protect them.”

  He flexed his hands in irritation. This was gong nowhere. It wasn’t her job to protect everyone. He turned away from her to retrieve the unicorn’s saddle from the ground, then set it gently on the creature’s back, securing the belly strap before fastening the bridle around its head.

  Finn sat in the grass glaring at him as he rolled up the bedroll, then strapped the rest of their meager supplies behind the saddle.

  Done with that, he marched over to her.

  She glared up at him. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  He sighed, then crouched down and lifted her up like a child. She struggled against him, but he refused to release her.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” she hissed, pushing against his chest. “I will use my magic on you if I must.”

  “No,” he stated calmly, carrying her toward the unicorn. “You will not.”

  She continued to struggle as he tossed her onto the saddle, forcing her to either straddle it or fall off the other side, then quickly climbed up behind her. He hated even the small risk of her falling off, but he hated even more the risk of the Dearg Due finding them come nightfall.

  Naoki pranced around the unicorn, craning her long neck up to watch Finn, who seemed momentarily too stunned to fight.

  Seizing the opportunity, Iseult circled Finn with his arms and grabbed the reins, then dug his heels into the unicorn’s sides. He exhaled a sigh of relief as the unicorn obeyed, and Naoki trotted after them.

  “Loinnir,” Finn snapped. “I demand that you stop moving right this instant.”

  The unicorn continued walking, despite Finn’s demands.

  Giving up on that course of action, Finn glared over her shoulder at Iseult. “Why is she not listening to me? Did you conspire against me while I was asleep?”

  “Perhaps she does not listen, because she too wants you to remain alive,” he said evenly.

  Her expression softened, ever so slightly. “My life is no more important than those of our friends.”

  He shook his head. “I do not agree, and it seems, neither does your unicorn.”

  Finn huffed, turning to face forward in the saddle. “Let us at least retrace our steps on the way. Perhaps we can find evidence of their fates.”

  And run right back to the Dearg Due? Hardly. “No,” he said out loud.

  She crossed her arms and proceeded to pout.

  He withdrew a piece of bread from their supplies and handed it to her, both to fill her belly and keep her from speaking further.

  She took it with a glare.

  He did his best to ignore her after that, though it vexed him to have her upset with him. He was at least glad they were finally moving, and that despite her threats, she had not used her magic on him.

  Of course, there was still time for her to change her mind.

  Bedelia groaned as she forced her eyes open. Soft bedding rubbed against her cheek. Her vision slowly came into focus . . . candles, plush rugs, and, she sniffed, the sea? They’d still been days away from the sea. Had her companions found her after the Dearg Due attack and carried her all that way?

  She sat up in the cushy bed, her hand reflexively going to her neck to examine the bite wound there, but instead she found a fresh bandage adhered to the side of her neck with some sort of paste. She glanced down to see she was dressing in a clean, white sleeping gown.

  She tugged her bare feet out of the bedding and swung them over the side of the bed. Flexing her toes, she gasped. The black lines from her old Faie wolf bite had receded. The marring of the central wound was still there, but the spreading that had taken place over the past weeks was gone.

  Suddenly suspicious, she glanced around the room again. Where on earth was she?

  “It’s about time you woke,” a female voice said from somewhere behind her, though she’d been sure there was no one in the room just seconds ago.

  She whipped around, then cringed at the pain in her neck, though it was nothing compared to the sudden fear in her heart. “Keiren? What’s going on? Where am I?”

  Keiren’s rouged lips curled into a smile, and not the usual predatory one. This one was soft and . . . concerned?

  Keiren stepped forward. Her long red dress, as fiery as her hair, trailed across the ornate rugs. On anyone else the matching hair and dress would have looked odd, but on Keiren, it just looked striking and lovely. Even without the clothes, that was how Bedelia had always viewed her . . . until recently.

  “I found you,” Keiren explained. “You were bitten by one of the Dearg Due, and left behind by your companions.”

  She shook her head. “No, they did not leave me on purpose. We were separated during the attack.”

  Keiren took a seat beside her on the bed.

  Bedelia flinched.

  Keiren’s smile faltered. “You were near death,” she explained. “If I had not found you,” she shook her head, “you would have died.”

  Bedelia took a deep, trembling breath. “Were you behind forcing Finn into the in-between?” she asked. “I know how much you like to torment people in dreams.”

  Keiren tilted her head, trailing her waist-length red hair down the side of her arm. “Yes,” she admitted, “that was me, but you do not understand. I did not harm her.”

  “Probably just because she stopped you,” Bedelia muttered.

  Instead of the expected anger, Keiren remained calm, her hand reaching slowly toward Bedelia. She froze, hardly breathing, as Keiren’s fingers stroked through her short hair.

  “Stop toying with me,” she hissed. “I know you only saved me because you want something. Healing my old wolf bite was a nice touch, though it would have been nice if you’d healed that before, since you’re clearly capable.”

  Keiren’s hand fell back to her lap. “I only pushed back the poison. The wound itself cannot be healed at this late stage, but I can continue to push the poison back indefinitely.”

  Ah, Bedelia thought, so there it was. Keiren had her leverage. “I will not betray Finn in return for your healing,” she growled. “You may as well just kill me now.”

  Keiren sighed, then stood. She began to pace. “Did I ever tell you what happened to my mother?” she questioned.

  Bedelia’s eyes widened. Why bring that up now? “She died when you were young. It was your father’s fault.”

  Keiren sighed again, turning to fully face her. “It was only his fault indirectly,” she explained. “When I was young, I was already very powerful, more powerful than my father. It should not have been so. Magic had been weakened at that time, and most who experienced it did not gain any sort of power until they were near adulthood.”

  Bedelia gripped her hands in the surrounding bedding. She wanted to tell Keiren to burn in the Horned One’s den, but . . . she’d never spoken much about her childhood. Why now?

  Nodding to herself, Keiren continued. “My mother was not magical, but she was never one to fear what she did not understand,” she hesitated. “She should have been afraid. When I was still but a child I stole a kitten from a neighboring farm.” She smiled softly. “I had always wanted a pet.”

  She resumed her seat by Bedelia, and it was all she could do not to scoot away. She did want to hear this story.

  “My mother found out and took the kitten away from me,” she continued. “I was distraught beyond reason. I shut myself away inside my room and cursed her. I cursed her with every drop of power I had, never realizing that I might actually be capable of harming her.” She took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “The next day she fell ill. She slipped into unconsciousness and never awakened again. Slowly, her body waste
d away until she died.”

  Bedelia raised a hand to her mouth to hide her gasp.

  Keiren smiled softly at her. “My father tried to help her, but his magic was not like mine. He never said so out loud, but I knew he blamed me for what happened. He loved my mother more than anything else. I pushed him constantly to admit that he blamed me. I just wanted him to tell me the truth, but he would not. We fought, and I lashed out, crippling his magic.”

  Her eyes flicked to Bedelia, then down to her lap. “I believe my mother is trapped somewhere in the in-between, because of the curse I placed upon her. I began spending so much time there because I’d hoped to find her, but she is somehow beyond my reach. That is why I want Finn.”

  Bedelia’s back stiffened at the mention of her friend. Was she finally about to find out the root of Keiren’s massive scheming?

  “At first I wanted Finn to grant me a measure of her immortality,” she continued. “With that, I could break any barrier the in-between has to offer. I could have broken the barrier between life and death to release my mother from her prison.” She shook her head. “But that plan will no longer work.”

  Bedelia shook her head, unable to clear her thoughts. “But how do you know she is even there? Perhaps her soul moved on long ago.”

  Keiren shook her head. “No. I know she is there. She has to be. I have grown powerful over the years, and I’ve taken power from others. That power has sustained my unnaturally long life, and I will not let it go until I can set things right.”

  Bedelia stared at her in awe. Was this the reason for everything? Was this why Keiren was willing to betray her? She shook her head and sighed. It was still no excuse. Keiren’s loss was awful, but still, she had done horrible things. Her childhood story did not change the evil of her actions.

  She flung a glare at Keiren, ready to tell her to go rot in a swamp, then her breath hitched. Tears streamed down Keiren’s face. In all of the time they’d spent together, Bedelia had never seen her cry.

  Keiren smiled softly at her through her tears. “I’m glad you’re back by my side.” She stood, then gestured down at the bed. “You must rest. I cleansed the damage from the Dearg Due, but it can still take time to recover from their poisonous bite.”

  Bedelia obeyed, fearful the more violent side of Keiren would return if she didn’t. Once she was back beneath the covers with a pillow under her head, Keiren leaned down and kissed her forehead, then exited the room, shutting the door behind her.

  As soon as she was gone, Bedelia jumped out of bed and rushed to the room’s sole window. Sea breeze hit her face as she peered out at the devastating drop, leading only to razor sharp black rocks and the angry tide.

  She stumbled back to the bed and sat, glancing at the closed door on the opposite side of the room. She needed to escape to warn Finn of Keiren’s intent, but how? If there was one thing she knew, it was that Keiren would not make her escape easy. She’d have to play nice with her sadistic ex-lover until she could find a way out.

  She began to sweat as she slipped back into bed, her heart pounding. Parting ways with Keiren had nearly killed her the first time. She was not sure she was capable of surviving it again.

  Chapter Eleven

  Ealasaid chewed her lip, peering out from the guard tower at the front of Gwythern’s estate. Two days had passed since she’d sent her scouts out to the neighboring burghs. She knew it was too soon to expect them back, but still, she was worried.

  The flow of travelers into Garenoch had all but stopped. The last few travelers to make it in spoke of red eyes watching them in the night, and the thunder of distant hoofbeats. One even claimed he’d seen a herd of half man, half horse creatures galloping by. Most feared it would not be long now until the Faie invaded the burgh, but Ealasaid was not so sure. Something told her that humans were not of much concern to the Faie. Perhaps they were preparing for the prophecy to reach fulfillment, as Slàine had said. Now that Finn had set things in motion, war was inevitable.

  “You’ll catch a cold up here,” a woman’s voice commented from behind her.

  She turned to see Slàine approaching, dressed in her usual black, with her gray hair pulled back into a tight braid.

  Ealasaid wrapped her burgundy cloak more tightly around herself and turned her gaze back to the burgh below. “I’m fine.”

  Not taking the hint, Slàine stepped up beside her.

  Ealasaid sucked her teeth. It wasn’t that she necessarily disliked Slàine, though the woman was unbearably rude most of the time. She was more worried about her intentions. She and her assassins had attacked her, Maarav, and their other companions just to prevent Finn from fulfilling the prophecy. The assassins had failed, and Maarav had turned on them. Though peace had been made, Ealasaid suspected that Slàine blamed her for the latter.

  “You’ll make a good leader,” Slàine commented, gazing out at the burgh beside her, “if you can manage to keep your emotions under control.”

  Ealasaid pushed a lock of curly blonde hair behind her ear. “I think my emotions are exactly why I’ll make a worthwhile leader, though I’ll admit, I still have much to learn.”

  Slàine smirked. “Yes, much to learn, though you’ve come far for a simple farm girl.”

  The way she said farm girl gave Ealasaid pause. Was she questioning her origins?

  “Maarav told me your people were killed, and you fled,” Slàine commented, her tone casual.

  She inhaled sharply, twisting her neck toward Slàine. “I fled to save them, and they were killed sometime after without my knowledge.”

  Slàine nodded. “So you say.”

  Ealasaid clenched her hands to keep them from trembling. She’d blamed herself for the death of her kin a hundred times over. She didn’t need this woman pointing the finger of blame too.

  She tried to keep her mouth shut, but her words would not stay in. She spun toward Slàine. “Are you implying that I meant for my family to die, or simply that I fled to save my own skin?”

  Slàine shrugged. “Neither. I merely find it hard to believe that a girl with such . . . pride, came from such simple beginnings.”

  Ealasaid fought back tears. She’d not allowed herself to mourn the deaths of her kin, not yet, and she would not allow Slàine the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

  Slàine raised an eyebrow at her. “Perhaps a farm girl after all,” she mused. “Even if half the time you act like a queen. A human, magic wielding queen.” She raised her hand to her chin. “Hmm, just like the one in the prophecy. How odd.”

  With that, she slinked away, retreating down the stairs that led up through the guard tower.

  Ealasaid gazed after her in shock. Was Slàine implying that she was one of the queens from the prophecy? A queen that would leave her family to die?

  She whipped back around, looking at the burgh, gritting her jaw against her tears. If only her mother could see her now, she began to think, then shook her head. Her mother would never see anything again. Was it really her fault? If she’d stayed in her village, would she have been able to protect her from An Fiach? Would she then have carried on living a normal life, away from assassins and Faie and . . .

  Footsteps sounded a moment before a hand alighted on her shoulder.

  She jumped, then slowly turned to see Maarav looking down at her.

  His eyes widened at her expression. “Are you—” he began, but cut off as she buried her face in his chest.

  He seemed momentarily startled, then slowly wrapped his arms around her. “What did Slàine say to you?” he murmured.

  She shook her head and took a deep breath, but her tears slipped out despite her efforts. He began to stroke her wayward curls and she almost pushed away, but could not find the strength. It felt like years since she’d known the comfort of someone who actually cared about her . . . though she was never quite sure if Maarav’s caring was genuine. He was a self-serving vagabond, after all.

  Finally managing to still her tears, she pulled away. “Who do you th
ink the third queen from the prophecy is?”

  He furrowed his brow. “The third queen? Why are you thinking about that? It’s just a silly prophecy.”

  “Just answer the question,” she pressed.

  He gave her an odd look, then replied, “Well, if Finn is one queen, and the Queen of all the Faie another, then I imagine whoever the human queen is, she’s more powerful than all of An Solas combined.”

  She let out a shaky breath. Good. That was good. She wasn’t even the most powerful magic user within An Solas, let alone more powerful than everyone combined.

  He looked down at her with concern, then placed a hand at the small of her back. “Come now, I’d say it’s time you ate something and warmed yourself by the fire.”

  She nodded and let him lead her away, though she stole a final glance back at the burgh. She hoped her scouts would return soon. She didn’t want any more deaths on her conscience.

  Iseult focused on their surroundings, keeping an eye out for any sign of the Dearg Due as the sun waned on toward evening. Naoki had disappeared, likely to hunt rabbits, so Iseult kept an ear out for her too. Anything was better than focusing on Finn’s silence, and the stiffness of her back ahead of him in the saddle.

  She was clearly still angry that they couldn’t spare the time to search for their companions, but better angry than in the hands of the Faie.

  “I suppose I should explain to you what happened while I was in the in-between,” she suddenly commented, breaking the silence. Her back seemed to relax . . . slightly.

  He didn’t speak, fearing he might once again incite her ire.

  She sighed. “I saw Anders there. Niklas killed him.”

  Good, he thought, but decided to keep said thought to himself. Had he the chance, he would have killed Anders, so he was a dead man either way. It didn’t matter who struck the final blow.

  She glanced over her shoulder at him, her gaze wary. Had she somehow read his thoughts?

  She bit her lip.

  No, he determined, she was nervous about something.

  She turned forward again, and did not speak. The unicorn ambled onward, occasionally dipping its snout to snare shoots of tall grass.