Queen of Wands (The Tree of Ages Series Book 4) Read online

  A soft knock sounded at the door. Patting Ealasaid’s shoulder he stood, crossed the room, and opened it. Ouve and Sage waited outside.

  “We just wanted to make sure she’s alright,” Sage explained.

  Maarav glanced over his shoulder at Ealasaid. She was upset and tired, but likely still capable of protecting herself. He turned back to the two boys.

  “Stay here with her,” he instructed. “I need to find Slàine and tally the losses. Then we must prepare for the next attack.”

  Before he got far, gentle footsteps sounded behind him, then Ealasaid appeared at his side. “I will come with you. If I’m going to be a leader, then I must lead.”

  He couldn’t help his satisfied smile. He was not sure if Keiren’s claims were correct, but he half hoped they were. She would make a good queen. Much better than the land had seen in several lifetimes.

  Keiren paced around the confines of the small room she’d been given at the inn. She had half a mind to burn the place down. Then they’d have to let her stay within the estate.

  She sighed, then slumped onto the small, hard bed. At least she’d convinced the farm girl to work with her. If Ealasaid ever came to terms with the power that waited within her, she would be a force to be reckoned with, rather than the scared little thing she was now. She might even prove capable of breaking the barrier to the in-between, though she doubted it. The ritual was very clear, and could only be performed by one with immortal blood. She suspected Finnur had already shared that gift with someone else, it was the only explanation for the mortal taint in her blood now. She shook her head in dismay. Finnur could no longer give her what she needed, but if she could be convinced to perform the barrier breaking ritual herself . . .

  She smiled faintly. Ealasaid could aid in that endeavor. The prophecy was very clear. Two of the queens would die. If she could mold Ealasaid into a true threat, they could force Finnur into helping them.

  She stood and began to pace once more. No, that wouldn’t work. Finnur cared not for the prophecy, all she cared about was protecting her small group of companions and finding Àed.

  She smirked at the thought. Yes, the task of finding Àed should keep Finnur quite busy. Too busy to build an army.

  Soon Finnur would be forced to see things her way.

  A knock sounded at her door. She glared at the simple wood adorned with a single brass knob and lock. She focused her senses on whoever was outside the door, attempting to determine if they meant her harm, yet she felt . . . nothing.

  There was only one person she knew that felt like nothing.

  She strode across the room and opened the door, unsurprised to see Óengus standing on the other side. His silver hair and beard were neatly groomed, though he looked thinner than he had before, and older.

  She sneered. “I thought perhaps you had died.”

  He smirked, then pushed his way into the room. “What are you doing here?” he questioned, turning on his heel to face her as she shut the door.

  She raised an eyebrow at him. “I could ask you the same question. Have you come to grovel at my feet and beg for forgiveness after abandoning your task?”

  His gaze darted around the small room, then back to her face. “I was too late. I witnessed Finnur claiming the shroud. She’s too powerful for you to take advantage of now.”

  Keiren laughed to hide the rage that washed up within her. If only she’d gotten to Finn sooner. “How little you know,” she purred, feigning confidence. “Finnur may be powerful, but she is like a child in a den of wolves. Oighear hunts for her, and soon the human queen will as well. Now, give me one good reason to let you live.”

  He laughed, then sat on the bed, lounging.

  She clenched her fists. The fool really did have guts, right to the very end.

  “Would you truly kill the Snow Queen’s spy?” he asked, one silver eyebrow raised.

  “Oighear?” she questioned. “Is that where you’ve been hiding?”

  He nodded. “I found her after she faced Finnur, and Finnur won. I grew tired of waiting for you to return my shadow.”

  “And the Snow Queen is capable of helping you?” she asked, genuinely interested.

  He smiled, but she’d noted his brief hesitation. He was unsure if Oighear would truly help him.

  She grinned, then approached him. She reached out a hand as if to stroke his cheek, as one would a prized horse.

  He glared at her hand, then stood and stepped back.

  She laughed, pleased to have regained control of the conversation. Few could verbally spar with her effectively.

  “I’m going to let you in on a little secret, dear Óengus,” she crooned. “The only way for your shadow to be returned to you, is to break the barriers of the in-between. Fortunately, that is exactly what I plan to do, with your help.”

  He narrowed his gaze at her. “Go on.”

  She fought the urge to gloat. She’d never met the Snow Queen personally, but it still felt good to steal her spy away.

  “Tell me what the Aos Sí plan,” she suggested, “and I will ensure your survival until the barrier can be broken, and we both receive just what we want.”

  He tilted his head in thought. “Tell me what you’re planning with the human queen, and you will have your answers in return.”

  She strode over to the door and locked it with the heavy iron key she’d been provided, then strolled toward the small fire in the hearth. She positioned a wooden chair near the flames and sat, then looking at Óengus, gestured to a second.

  With a hesitant look at the locked door, Óengus crossed the room and sat.

  The night was truly looking up.

  Night had come again, and Kai couldn’t help but admit that he felt spectacular. Physically, at least. He could stand no longer being held captive by the Dearg Due.

  During the night, they marched him ceaselessly, their pace slowed by his human constitution. Other than flinging the occasional insult, they did not speak to him.

  He flinched as some sort of bug fell from the trees above and landed on his shoulder near his neck, but his hands were tied behind his back so he couldn’t swat it. He wiggled uncomfortably, then nearly stumbled as a tiny voice whispered in his ear, “Do not be alarmed, and do not answer me, just listen.”

  Was he hallucinating? The small weight on his shoulder felt horribly real, as did the tickle of something pressing against his neck.

  “We have been sent by the Oak Queen,” the voice buzzed, “but we cannot hope to face the Dearg Due and live. You must listen to my words carefully.”

  His eyes flicked to the surrounding Dearg Due, but none of them seemed to notice the tiny creature pressed against his neck, hiding beneath his hair.

  “Soon you will approach a stream,” the voice continued. “This is your only hope. They do not like to cross running water. It absorbs dark magic, leaving them weakened.”

  He resisted the urge to nod. If whatever was on his shoulder planned to help him, he would not argue.

  “Tell them you must relieve yourself,” the voice continued. “When you go, veer to the right of the path.”

  “I must relieve myself,” he said out loud, stopping in his tracks.

  “Keep moving, weak Dair,” the most familiar of the Dearg Due hissed.

  He did not obey. They’d allowed him the luxury previously . . . with a small escort.

  “Hurry up,” one of the other wicked women hissed, then said a few words in their language.

  Three of the women, including his constant verbal abuser, hustled him to the left, but remembering the small voice’s words, he veered right.

  “I think I spotted a snake over there,” he lied.

  Grumbling under their breath, the women escorted him right instead.

  He stumbled through the dark underbrush, taking his time finding a place to relieve himself.

  “Far enough,” one of the women said, grabbing his arm to stop him.

  “Keep going,” the voice whispered in his ear. “Y
ou must be closer to the water if you hope to escape.”

  “Those vines are poisonous,” he said out loud. “I don’t want to catch a rash.”

  The women spoke in their language, then shoved him. “Here or not at all,” one hissed.

  The shove was half-hearted, but he took advantage and exaggerated his stumble, making his way farther in the direction chosen by the voice. He thought he could hear running water.

  The women caught up to him, and one grabbed his arm. “Back to the path,” she ordered.

  “I guess it’s now or never,” the tiny voice sighed. “On my command, run. Cross the water and do not stop.”

  His heart skipped a beat. Now or never. The creature on his shoulder twitched, and he felt a flutter against his neck.

  “Now!” it rasped.

  He tugged away from the Dearg Due and took off at a sprint as all noise was drowned out by the sound of fluttering wings. Flashes of color glinting in the moonlight caught his eye, but he did not slow his pace. The Dearg Due screeched behind him, then his feet splashed into the water of the stream.

  He continued across, the water almost engulfing his hips, slowing him down. The creature on his shoulder clung to his hair painfully. Something splashed into the water behind him, but he was already out on the other side. His clothes dripping and heavy, he started to run again.

  “Keep going straight!” the voice whispered in his ear, entwining itself in his hair as the creature fought to not be dislodged.

  He obeyed, fighting against the burn in his lungs and the icy chill in his legs.

  “Left!” the voice hissed.

  He could hear more screeching and splashing as he obeyed. The Dearg Due were crossing the water in pursuit.

  “They will not be as fast now,” the voice whispered, hitching from his bouncing gait, “nor as strong. Just a little bit further.”

  He ran until he thought he would collapse, then the voice hissed, “Stop! Do not move!”

  Despite his instincts telling him to run, he skidded to a halt and froze. The trees around him began to move, shuffling in around him. Their rough bark pressed against him on all sides, enclosing him fully.

  “They will not be able to sense you through the trees,” the voice whispered. “Just stay still and do not speak until they move on.”

  He would have nodded, but the trees were pinning him so completely that any movement was near impossible. He did his best to calm his breathing as the Dearg Due screeched all around him.

  He’d never been a fan of the Trow, or Faie in general, but right then, he could have hugged them . . . if only he could move.

  Bedelia held tightly to her reins, flinching at every sound emanating from the midnight marsh. Her horse’s hooves suctioned in the mud with every step. The moon cast an eerie glow about the shadows of night. She recognized where she was now, deep in the Southlands near the coast. Days of swampland lay before her.

  She glanced at Àed atop his horse. Silence had stolen his tongue since their escape. Her gaze passed him, reaching Sativola, slumped in his saddle. If they got stuck in the mud, or slipped into a hidden bog, he would be of no help. Even though she had dressed his wound and forced water down his throat before they left, he’d grown more ill since then. They probably should have stopped to rest, but she didn’t want to stay in the murky marsh any longer than necessary. Not to mention Keiren would search for them upon her return to the fortress, unless Niklas decided to aid them further by delaying her.

  She jumped as an owl hooted above her, then shook her head at her own foolishness. Why had Niklas decided to help her in the first place? What could he possibly want from her? She had no power like Finn or Keiren, nor was she important enough to anyone to be used as a bargaining tool. It didn’t make any sense.

  Sativola erupted in a fit of coughing, then squinted up at the slowly rising sun. “Is it brighter today than usual?” he rasped.

  She glanced up at the sun, barely high enough to shine light at all, and obscured by the ever present murk of the marshes.

  “Not really,” she replied, casting a speculative eye over his hunched form.

  He groaned, then pulled his borrowed hood up over his curls. She hadn’t been able to find something large enough for him in the short time she’d taken to gather supplies, but she’d figured the thick brown cloak was better than nothing. For herself, she’d unfortunately been unable to find her usual cloak or weapons, but Keiren had supplied her with breeches and a cream colored tunic, and she’d found a heavy green cloak for warmth. She’d also discovered a bow in a small armory, though it was larger than the one she usually used. She would be slow to fire an arrow should the need arise. Àed had taken nothing but a light gray cloak and a small ration of food.

  Sativola let out a loud, shuddering breath. “I feel like my insides are twisted, and my mind is full of fog.”

  She frowned. She’d been bitten by the creatures who’d attacked them too, but Keiren had cleansed her wound. Was the poison similar to what had affected her in her wolf bite? If so, Sativola was likely to die in the marsh without Finn around to find a tincture for him.

  “I’m sure you just need rest,” she lied, “but we must ride throughout the day. I want to be far away when Keiren returns.”

  She swallowed at a sudden lump in her throat. It wouldn’t matter how far away she was. Keiren always seemed able to find her unless she was with Finn, and sometimes even then. Her only hope was that Keiren would remain away long enough for her to find Finn and Iseult once more. If they had survived the attack, they would be heading toward Sormyr, which meant they were somewhere to the North. If her horse lasted, she might stand a chance of finding them again. She glanced at Sativola. That was, if he didn’t slow her down.

  Just as she thought it, he slipped from his saddle and thudded into the mud. She hopped down from her horse, catching Sativola’s mount before it could bolt. Holding a tight rein on his horse and hers, she glanced at Àed, who watched her dispassionately. Giving up on the idea of his help, she rushed to Sativola’s side, tugging the horses along behind her.

  Sativola groaned and rolled onto his back, coating his cloak in mud. “I think I’m dyin’, lass,” he gasped.

  No, no, no, she thought. He couldn’t have chosen a worse time. They needed to get out of these blasted marshes. She looked over her shoulder at the horses. Without Sativola’s massive weight on one, they might remain fresh enough to carry her out of danger . . .

  She groaned, dismissing the idea. She hurried to tether both horses to a nearby scraggly tree, then rushed back to Sativola. She sat on her knees in the mud beside him, then gently lifted his head into her lap.

  While he groaned in pain, she pushed his sweaty curls aside and lifted his bandage to observe his neck, then nearly gagged at the smell coming from the wound. It was as if the skin was rotting, and the gray coloration had spread down to his collarbone and up to his jaw.

  “Is it bad?” he panted.

  “N-no,” she lied. “You just need to rest. I will try to find us some dry wood to build a small fire.”

  She gently set his head back on the mud, then stood to search for wood. She knew deep down that she should just leave him. If he was going to die anyway, there was no point of sacrificing her own life to make him comfortable. If Keiren returned to the fortress, it would take her little time to find them and drag her back to her remote tower. She knew if that happened, she would not find the opportunity to escape again.

  She glanced back at Sativola’s large form, lying in the mud. He was nothing but a sailor who’d hired on into a bad situation, yet, he’d always been kind to her. He’d always been kind to everyone, even though he drank far too much whiskey.

  She knew in that moment she couldn’t leave him behind, even if Àed wasn’t present to rat her out to Finn. She couldn’t use her fear of Keiren as an excuse. At one time in her life, she had considered herself a warrior, ready to face any fear that came her way.

  Perhaps it was time to get tha
t feeling back.

  Óengus lounged by the warm hearth in the deserted farmstead, its previous residents long since departed. Whether they left because they feared the Faie, or because the unnaturally cold weather made their crops fail was of little consequence. He had a place to stay outside of the burgh, where he wasn’t likely to be noticed by anyone who might know of him.

  He held up a crystal in the flickering light of the fire. He was yet to use it to communicate with Oighear. Part of him wanted to lie to her, to side once more with Keiren, but then again, Keiren had toyed with him for far too long. If he told Oighear about Ealasaid and her army of mages, she would likely join her Aos Sí warriors when they attacked. Keiren might be killed, giving him one less option. Conversely, if he proved his loyalty to Oighear, she might just return his shadow in exchange for his continued service.

  There were too many ifs. Perhaps if he was the type of man to care about the lives of those within the burgh, he’d want to fight against the Faie taking over the land, but he did not care. He thought the victory of the Faie an inevitability. Humans might be killed off entirely for all he cared. All he wanted was to achieve his mission, regain that which he once willingly gave away, then he would gladly join the lowly townsfolk in their mass grave.

  He lifted the crystal again, gazing into it with a heavy sigh. Perhaps if he’d cared about the difference between right and wrong, good and evil, he would not be in this predicament to begin with.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Anna couldn’t help her excitement. After a fitful night’s rest and a quick morning meal, she and Eywen remounted their horse to follow the Pixies on the final leg of their journey. According to the tiny creatures, their Oak Queen was not far off, and they would reach her shortly.

  She could only hope Kai was with Finn, or at the very least that the Pixies had found him too, and were leading him along. She even surprised herself by hoping some of Eywen’s warriors had been found. He’d abandoned his evil Faie Queen along with most of his people, just to fight for what he thought was right. He deserved at least a little luck by now.