Page 86 of A War of Three Kings

My father raises his hands before him, gripping his moving stallion with his thighs alone, and his entire arms glow with red light as he forms a fire crystal within his hands, large enough to fill both palms.

Jolts of fear cut into me—there are so many ways this could go wrong. He takes that fiery ball and tosses it into the air with an overarm throw, then collects its trajectory in a gale of air, blasting it with force toward his chosen catapult behind the enemy line.

Right as we reach the throwing range of the shield wall’s spears, my father banks hard to the left and we all follow him in a crazed dash away from the enemy. Behind us, the thunder of an explosion rumbles through the air, and hot waves race out in its wake.

I dare a glance back at the catapult. The arm has snapped and fire licks at the structure, but it is mostly intact. People run toward it and try to put out the flames with their cloaks.

Our party banks hard again and we charge back toward our enemy.This dance of loops makes us an incredibly difficult target for their archers.As we gallop toward that front line again, I notice small gaps in the shield wall as the soldiers ready to throw their spears at us.

Multiple blows could crack my air shield, or they could take out our horses if they catch us.

I pull my bow from my back, gripping my horse with just my legs, and loose arrows at them. It is a feat most of our cavalry can’t manage, but I have fine-tuned the skill on my hunts. I don’t bother aiming for the small gaps between the enemy shields; my cover fire tightens them up anyway and aborts their attempts to hurl those spears at us.

My father forms another fire crystal, smaller this time, and as our horses tear even closer to the enemy, he throws it and guides it straight into the center of the partly broken catapult. Wood shards explode out from it and the team working on it are tossed like dolls.

We do not slow our gallop as we turn sharply away from the enemy. This is when we are the most vulnerable, with our backs to them.

Another rumble shakes the ground, and I turn briefly toward Aldrin’s band, who stand behind an immense wall of roots pulled from the earth. Beyond them, a rip has opened in the ground around the catapult, and roots thicker than my torso erupts from it like a tentacled sea monster and drag it down, crushing the structure in their grasp.

A horn blasts from Fort Blackrock and my father leads us in retreat. I ride low on my warhorse, my entire body moving in rhythm to the fast pounds of its hooves striking the ground, sounding like the beat of war drums. My heart hammers painfully to the same song.

Crashing rumbles through the night. I glance over my shoulder to see the enemy’s shield wall part, an attack force racing through on horseback. Friendly arrows fly overhead as we near the fortress to dissuade the pursuing enemy.

Caitlin’s form is visible high above us, firing arrow after arrow, with hundreds of guards following her. The fae overtake us in the retreat and speed across the bridge of roots and in through the open gate.

Dread turns my blood to ice as the enemy warriors gain on us with their fresher mounts. With the cracking of so many hooves against the ground and their cries and jeers, they sound like a pursuing thunderstorm.

My father does not slow as he reaches the bridge and pounds across it. Liam is a heartbeat behind him. I don’t question whether it can take my weight also as I gallop over it with Aiden and Brandan flanking me. We cross it in moments and race toward the slowly lowering iron gate.

Almost immediately, more hoofbeats hammer on the bridge. I make the mistake of glancing behind me. A horde of a hundredmounted warriors races toward us, swords drawn and ready for blood. Far behind them, the soldiers of the shield advance forward. They are planning to slide in through the gate behind us and hold it open for the larger host. Lord Desmond must think very little of us.

I get a final glimpse of my siblings on the wall before I race beneath the gate. Their faces are masks of concentration, and their arms are held high. Diarmuid’s mouth works as he chants a druid incantation. Caitlin’s bow is forgotten, and a snarl peels her lips back from her teeth.

I pull my horse to a stop in the courtyard and whip around in time to witness the bridge pulverized to dust with the enemy still on it.Pride fills my chest at my sibling’s display of autumn magic.

The enemy falls into the ravine, screaming as they are impaled on spikes or crunching as they hit the bottom. Some make it across, but the Spring fae on the wall send huge stakes of wood out of the ravine to skewer their bodies, humans and horses alike. Our soldiers working the wrench system on the gate allow it to drop in freefall for the last ten feet.

It hits the ground with a bone-shuddering impact.

I shake with the adrenaline of the fight as I look around at our people gathered by the gate. Aldrin is here, striding toward us with a huge smile on his lips. Cyprien, Drake, Klara, Silvan—they are all here.

A huge cheer tears out of the amassed crowd. Everyone is laughing and slapping each other on the back. Human soldiers gather around the fae, calling out praises to them and shaking their hands with huge, awe-filled grins on their faces.

So many fuss around Aldrin that he struggles to make his way to me. Everyone wants to get a few words in with him and many reach out to touch him, as though he is a god walkingamong mortals. Finally, they have witnessed his might and appreciate what it is worth.

I am frozen in place, the jovial moment far too surreal compared to the death and destruction I just left behind. My father swiftly dismounts, then slides his arms around me, lifting me from my horse and crushing me in an embrace. He swings me around in a full circle and speaks into my hair. “I have never been more proud of you.”

He places me down on shaky feet.I glance over to Aldrin, who is practically being mauled by a group of well-wishers. My father follows my stare.

“He didn’t do half bad tonight either.”

I raise my eyebrows at him. “Father, are you growing fond of Aldrin? Will you allow him to merely exist unharassed now?”

“I know that bastard does more thanmerely existaround you, Keira,” he growls. “But yes. He is growing on me like a bad rash. One I suppose I can tolerate if it doesn’t kill me from sheer annoyance first.”

I want to say more to him, but Diarmuid and Caitlin race down the stairs and engulf me in a group hug.Over my brother’s shoulder, I glimpse Aldrin approaching my father. They exchange a few words, Aldrin’s eyes sparkling bright.

My father grabs his wrist and raises it high in the air. “Tonight would not have been a success without this man!” he yells above the roar of the crowd, and they explode with cheers for both men.“He and his people destroyed many catapults and dealt a great blow to enemy morale.”

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