Queen of Wands (The Tree of Ages Series Book 4) Page 9

  He caught himself before his jaw could fall open. The warriors stepped out of the trees and into the moonlight. Their ebony hair, like spider silk, flowed out the bottom of their oddly curved helmets. The pure whiteness of their skin seemed harsh in the soft darkness of night.

  As the Aos Sí drew closer, Iseult’s jaw fell farther. Their leader was someone he recognized. Someone he thought was dead.

  Eywen, the Aos Sí warrior who’d helped them escape Oighear’s dungeon, raised his gleaming sword to the sky. As one, the Aos Sí surged forth, meeting the nearest Reivers with their blades. The Reivers charged just as ferociously, likely not understanding just what they faced.

  His mind calculating the odds, Iseult turned to Kai. “Lift Finn onto Loinnir with you. Be prepared to run should you find an opening. We do not know if the Aos Sí are currently friend or foe.”

  Kai nodded, sheathed his daggers, then hurried back to Finn, gathering her in his arms. As if by command, Finn’s unicorn pranced up to Kai and knelt. He hoisted her up to sit on Loinner, allowing her body to drape forward toward the unicorn’s soft white neck. He climbed up behind her, and Loinnir rose to her hooves. Satisfied, Iseult turned his attention back to the battle.

  The Reivers fell one by one, unable to stand up to the unearthly might of the Aos Sí. Suddenly remembering Naoki, Iseult’s gaze darted around for her, but she was nowhere to be seen. In fact, he hadn’t noticed her since Finn had been rendered unconscious. All for the best, he supposed, he didn’t need to worry about protecting her too.

  His visual search ended on Niklas and Anders as they hurried off together in the opposite direction, away from the battle. Cowards.

  Iseult gripped his sword tightly, not entirely opposed to testing his skills against the Aos Sí once more. If they wanted Finn, they’d have to kill him first.

  The two women stood face to face. Keiren’s simple dagger sliced into the skin of Finn’s palm. Crimson droplets littered the stone floor as Finn fought against the urge to cradle her hand. Deeply engrossed, Keiren sliced her own palm.

  “Will this even work here?” Finn’s voice quavered. She’d given Kai a portion of her immortality in the in-between, but they’d both been physically there, as least she thought they had. She wasn’t sure about the actual whereabouts of Keiren’s body, but she was quite sure her own physical form remained back with her companions.

  She gulped. Companions that were allegedly surrounded by warriors, poised to kill should she fail in her task.

  Keiren didn’t seem to be listening to her. She held her bloody hand out, bright red fluid dripping profusely onto the floor, but her eyes were closed, her head tilted as if she listened to distant music.

  Suddenly her eyes flew open.

  Finn startled and stumbled backward, nearly losing her footing.

  “Your blood,” Keiren hissed. “It is not pure.”

  Finn shook her head, clutching her dripping hand. “I don’t know what you mean. I’m doing as you asked, so you must call off your warriors.”

  Keiren glared at her, then her expression softened and her eyes slid sideways, as if focusing on something far away.

  Finn watched on, darting her eyes around for an escape route. She wasn’t sure what Keiren meant by her blood being impure. Perhaps because she’d already shared it with Kai?

  “Those incompetent fools!” Keiren hissed, startling her. She glared at Finn again. “We will finish this conversation upon my return.”

  Her entire form seemed to blink in and out of existence, then disappeared entirely.

  Finn stared at the space where Keiren had been. How had she managed to leave so suddenly?

  Her shoulders slumped in a mixture of fear and relief, but also apprehension. Had something happened with her companions to draw Keiren away? When she returned, would she still try to take Finn’s blood, or did she no longer want it?

  Cradling her bloody hand, she glanced around the room again. There were several halls branching off, but where they led, she had no idea. All she knew was that she should not remain in this room and wait for Keiren to return. If their deal was off because of Finn’s impure blood, she had nothing left to bargain with. She needed to find a hiding place where she could go to sleep and return to her friends before it was too late . . . if it wasn’t too late already.

  She chose a corridor at random and started running, but not as quickly as she would have liked. The corridor was sparsely lit by candles in wall sconces, leaving long periods of blackness in between each tiny beacon.

  Her steps echoed off the stone walls of the narrow corridor, surrounding her with soft, reverberating noise. Everywhere in the in-between seemed to look the same, just long stone corridors illuminated by torches and candles, with few cross-paths to take. She could end up running down this corridor until she collapsed from exhaustion.

  Slowing her gait, she considered just curling up and attempting to go to sleep. Perhaps if she hid in one of the dark expanses, Keiren wouldn’t be able to find her right away.

  She clutched her still bleeding hand, debating, and wondering how Keiren had so efficiently departed. She had no idea how to attempt such a feat, but perhaps someone else in the in-between could help her. She’d met her mother here before, and Branwen. Perhaps she could find them again.

  Tired and frightened, she forced her feet forward. She rounded a bend in the corridor, then skidded to a halt. Mist hit her face, moistening her skin in a sensation that felt both warm and cold at the same time. The stones at her feet were covered in moss, leading up to the end of the corridor. Had she known she’d been this close to the end of the corridors, she’d never have stopped running.

  Glancing over her shoulder, she stepped out into the misty night air. Had she somehow found the way out of the in-between, or had she simply discovered a new area?

  Her boots sunk into the mossy earth as she left the stone corridor behind. Lichen covered trees surrounded her, hosting the chirping of night insects. This place was somehow familiar.

  She continued walking, and eventually the trees opened up to reveal a wide, still lake. The full moon overhead reflected perfectly in the dark water. If she was still in the in-between, could that moon be real? Was any of this real?

  “This is not only the place between life and death,” someone whispered in her ear. “This is a place of dreams.”

  She froze, her gaze transfixed on the milky lunar reflection. “Mother?” she breathed. She recalled her dream. Her mother standing behind her, transitioning to Oighear’s icy grip pressing around her throat.

  Her mother stepped around from behind her to stand at her side, gazing out across the water. She wore a long burgundy dress, the color made murky by mist and moonlight.

  Finn followed her mother’s gaze, then stifled a gasp. Cloaked forms stood on the other side of the lake, just like in her dream, only now there was no boat.

  “Who are they?” she asked. “The Cavari?”

  “They are the souls you trapped here,” her mother, Móirne, explained. “They have been waiting for you here for one hundred years.”

  Tears trailed down her cheeks. Iseult’s ancestors. He should have wanted to kill her, not help her. Not . . . she cut her thoughts off. “I have to return to my friends. I cannot let Keiren harm them.”

  “Silly girl,” Móirne hissed. “Your friends stand little chance in this life. I cannot conceal you any longer. You shine too brightly.”

  Finn balled her hands into fists. “I will protect them. I just need to get out of here.” She turned her gaze to her mother’s impassive face, so similar in appearance to her own, but with blue eyes and surrounded by dark hair. “Please, if I go to sleep here, will I return to the real world?”

  Móirne shook her head. “You did not come here voluntarily. You must wait for the spell your body is under to wear off.”

  “But Keiren—” she began.

  “Keiren needs you alive,” Móirne interrupted. “She will not harm your body. I doubt she’ll be able to re
ach it again. Your people have come for their queen.”

  “What do you mean?” Finn gasped. “The Cavari? What has happened to my friends?”

  Móirne smirked. “Not our people, yours. You may be Queen of the Dair, but the Dair are rulers over all of nature. The Aos Sí have come to your call, and the call of the Faie Queen’s shroud. They will follow your command.”

  “The Aos Sí?” she muttered, confused. “But how?”

  Móirne shook her head again. “You really must stop being so dense. You’ve regained your memories of your past, now put them to use. You are the rightful Queen of the Dair. The Faie Queen is a lesser queen, and the human queen is as of yet inconsequential. Everyone must pick their sides. The Aos Sí will not pick the losing side again, at least those not blinded by loyalty.”

  “The Faie Queen?” she questioned. “You mean Oighear? She’d dead. The Aos Sí would never follow the one who killed their queen. If they have found my friends, they mean them harm.”

  Móirne glanced over her shoulder, a sudden worried look in her eyes. “I must go soon, but I implore you to not be so naive.” She met her gaze evenly. “You cannot so easily kill the winter.”

  Finn’s heart shuddered. She knew it. She knew it in her heart that Oighear could not truly be dead, not after the dream she’d had.

  Still . . . she’d seen her body, and there’d been no mistaking the icy stare of death.

  “I must go,” Móirne hissed.

  “Wait!” Finn rasped, reaching out for her. “Tell me what the Cavari want!”

  “I cannot help you,” she breathed, “I have already said too much. They cannot find us here together.” She pulled away then darted off, quickly disappearing into the mist.

  Finn whipped her gaze back to where the figures stood on the distant shore, but they were no longer there. She was utterly alone. Whatever had frightened her mother was nowhere to be seen. She peered across the still, dark water, wondering how long she would be stuck in this place, and what would happen to her companions while she was gone.

  With nothing else to do, she started walking through the misty woods, with no idea how long she’d be there, or where she’d end up.

  Chapter Seven

  Anna’s fingers ached, tired from gripping her daggers. Her weapons seemed a feeble force against the Aos Sí. Inhumanely graceful, they’d likely skewer her before she could blink. The Reivers were strewn in bloody piles before them, making Anna grateful for the darkness. It had been a while since she’d seen so many bodies freshly killed. The Reivers had fought their best, but had not taken down one of the Aos Sí. Not a single one. Gazing at the approaching warriors, shimmering softly with magic only seen by her, she gulped.

  Kai was on Finn’s unicorn, clutching Finn’s limp body against his chest, prepared to ride off if need be, though only time would tell if he’d sacrifice them all to save her.

  The Aos Sí wove through the corpses toward them. Some had sheathed their weapons, perhaps a good sign, but Anna didn’t trust it. They had almost reached Iseult and Bedelia, a few paces ahead of her and Sativola.

  Her hands flexed around her daggers as she watched the leader of the Aos Sí reach Iseult. She resisted the urge to run and abandon them all. Why hadn’t she done that already? She should have fled as soon as the Reivers were distracted.

  “My friend,” the Aos Sí leader began, bowing his head to Iseult. “It is good to see you again.”

  Anna’s jaw dropped. All of the Aos Sí looked similar enough that she didn’t recognize him at first, especially since they’d been sure he’d been killed. Eywen knew when he’d escorted Anna, Kai, Sativola, Iseult, Finn, and Bedelia from Oighear’s dungeons that his punishment would be death.

  “I’m glad to hear you call me friend,” Iseult replied. “How did you survive?”

  Eywen glanced past him to Anna and the rest of their companions. “That is a tale to be told around a warm fire,” he replied, “far away from the stench of bandit corpses.”

  His gaze lingered near Anna. On Finn, she realized, being held in a sitting position by Kai.

  “Does she live?” Eywen questioned.

  The Aos Sí waiting silently behind him seemed to shift as one, as if taking a collective, shuddering breath.

  Iseult turned his gaze to Anna. “Under a spell, you say?”

  She nodded, then cleared her throat, nervous to speak in front of the Aos Sí. “A spell I experienced myself once. She’s in the, um . . . ” she trailed off, not knowing if the Aos Sí would understand what she meant if she called it the Gray Place or the in-between. “She should regain consciousness eventually,” she said instead.

  Eywen nodded, then turned back to Iseult. “Will you allow us to travel with you until she awakens?” He looked out. “I sense something powerful nearby. It would be wise to be on our way.”

  “For now,” Iseult replied.

  Anna cringed. She had no desire to travel with the imposing Aos Sí. Eywen had saved their lives once, and had just done so again, but his fellow warriors, she had not met. At one time they’d all obeyed Oighear, and she couldn’t help recalling Kai and Finn’s shared dream. This could all be a trap to land them right back where they’d started, in the clutches of the Winter Queen.

  Anders crouched in the bushes beside Niklas, watching the exchange between Iseult and the strange warriors. They were too far for Anders to hear anything that was said, but he had no doubt Niklas was somehow using his magic to listen in.

  He watched as Iseult nodded, then one of the armored men—no, he couldn’t really call them men, they were something else—gestured to those behind him. A few raced forward and off into the trees on the other side of the road. Anders realized what they were doing a few moments later when they came back with the horses that had been startled during the battle. One of the armored . . . creatures handed a set of reins to Iseult.

  Iseult mounted as the rest of the warriors retrieved their own mounts from the tree line, though it appeared not all of the creatures had horses. Once those who did were on horseback, they journeyed as a unit further west down the Sand Road.

  “Do they . . . know them?” Anders inquired, turning his gaze to Niklas.

  “The warriors are the Aos Sí,” Niklas explained, rising from his crouch. “Though how they know your . . . friends, I’m not sure. I sensed there would be some sort of trouble in our plan, but I had not been expecting this.”

  “Well I’m pleased to hear you say that,” a female voice snapped from behind them. “I would hate to think you had betrayed me.”

  Anders and Niklas both turned toward the sound of the voice. Keiren stood between two spindly trees, her imposing height dwarfing the malnourished vegetation. Her fiery red hair, far more vibrant than Anders’, whipped about in the moonlit breeze.

  “I see you have not gained her immortality,” Niklas purred. “I told you it would not happen as you hoped.”

  Keiren glared at him. “You knew her blood was impure, didn’t you? Why did you not tell me before?”

  Niklas shrugged. “I knew things would not go as you’d planned, and that was all. I had not suspected that would be the undoing of your plan.” He stroked his chin in thought. “She was born pure blooded Dair, so she must have done something along the way to taint it.”

  “Obviously,” Keiren snapped. “I had no chance to ask her, as I sensed my men being cut down.” She gazed past them at the distant battlefield, then walked forward. “But we’ll just have to devise a new plan,” she continued. “Finnur should be stuck in the in-between for at least another day. She will not be able to come after me yet, if she chooses to at all. She’s a coward, but I would not like to be near in the event that she grows a spine and chooses to retaliate.”

  “Indeed,” Niklas agreed, then turned his reflective gaze to Anders. “I’m afraid now that you’ve betrayed your friends, and they have been joined by the Aos Sí, you’re no longer of much use.”

  Anders gut tightened. He’d assumed he’d die sometime
during Niklas’ plan, but he’d managed to survive. Was it truly over?

  “So then you will finally return my sister?” he asked hopefully.

  “Of course,” Niklas replied, stepping away from him. “A Traveler always keeps his word. I’ll notify those caring for her body to awaken her and treat her wounds immediately.”

  Anders’ shoulders slumped in relief. He’d actually done it. He’d managed to save his sister and survived to tell the tale. He glanced back at the battlefield, glad to finally leave the life of an adventurer behind. Once he had his sister back in the Archive, he’d never leave again.

  Something abruptly hit his gut, the impact followed by searing pain. He whipped his gaze back toward Niklas, then down to Niklas’ blood coated hand, pushing the dagger deeper into his flesh.

  In a state of shock, Anders looked to Keiren, but she was too busy examining her fingernails and tapping her boot-clad foot impatiently.

  He turned back to Niklas. “But you said we were done,” he croaked, his body convulsing against the pain. “I kept my end of the bargain.”

  Niklas smiled, then jerked out the dagger. “Your sister will be returned to the land of the living, not to you. You, my boy, are a loose end.”

  Keiren sighed. “Yes, so hurry up and snip the end already.”

  Anders was quite sure he’d already been snipped. He fell to his knees, still gazing up at Niklas. Hot blood coated his hands, and his vision began to go white.

  Niklas and Keiren both turned away, leaving him behind as he slumped to the earth. As the pain began to ebb, replaced by delirium, he found that he was not afraid. Branwen would be saved, and he wouldn’t have to fight anymore. His eyes closed of their own accord as he drifted off. His body seemed to grow cold. The ground beneath him seemed to harden, and darkness consumed everything.

  “Hello brother,” a soft voice said from somewhere above him, but his mind was too far gone to truly hear.

  Branwen’s entire body was on fire. Her hands scraped at the ground, expecting to find hard stone, but instead her skin was met with soft blankets.