Page 40 of The Rebel Seer

“You have been gone for but a week, Your Majesty,” Eoin replies. “It is almost time for the equinox feast.”

Devinshea nods like that makes sense to him. “Excellent. Then tell the palace cooks to double what they’re making. We have wolves and hounds to feed. Now you have been so helpful to bring us horses to ride so we don’t have to walk to the palace. My go…Zoey, love, you should ride with me.”

“Your Majesty,” Eoin begins as the others step away from their horses, obviously conditioned to immediately do their king’s bidding. “We cannot leave you with no proper guard. The rebels are known to work in these forests.”

“Yes, I know. I killed a chimera they sent to take me out,” Devinshea announces as he moves for the horses. “I think my new friends can handle it.”

“Your Majesty, this is not right,” Eoin says.

The ground begins to tremble and the trees around us sway.

Clem seems to fold in on herself. Though she’s dead and he cannot harm her, the trauma still runs deep.

A branch from a mighty oak swoops in and suddenly Eoin is in the air, a slender tendril wrapped around his throat. The branch lifts him, booted feet kicking as his hands go up to try to pull the branch from around his neck. It isn’t more than an instant before I see blood starting to trickle around the branch.

The rest of the guard pointedly don’t look his direction.

Rhys tenses beside me. I doubt he’s ever seen his father be so brutal. Though from what I can see from how Clem reacts, Devinshea is playing the role perfectly.

Dev easily mounts Eoin’s horse and holds his hand out, lifting the queen onto the saddle in front of him. She sits sideways between his legs, one of her husband’s arms wrapped protectively around her waist.

Sasha and Daniel take two of the remaining horses, and Sasha helps Cassie find her seat behind him. Neil frowns and starts undressing.

“I do not do horses,” the werewolf announces.

“You and Brendan and the hounds will be our forward and rear guard,” Dev commands. Zoey says something to him and he sighs. Eoin falls to the ground, gasping for breath. “Rhys, you and Shy will take the last horse. Try to keep up, son.”

Rhys takes my hand. Before he leads me away, I lean down like I’m tying my shoe. I get close to Clem. “Can you come with me? There’s so much we need to know if we’re going to survive this.”

Clem’s rich brown eyes are pools of sorrow as she looks back to the ponds. “No. I dare go no farther than the tree line. There is some kind of spell, and no spirit who leaves here returns. But there should be dead to help you in the palace. He’s killed so many. Be careful. Something is happening in the mountains. Something terrible.”

“Do you mean the sluagh?” I ask, but Rhys tugs on my hand and I know we have to leave. There will already be a thousand questions without the Seelie guard wondering why the strange girl talks to no one at all.

“He is coming for them,” Clem calls out as I’m led away.

I turn and she is staring at me. “Who?” I mouth the question.

A gnarled hand points to the north. “The wizard, of course.”

A chill goes through me, and I have to wonder if Arawn didn’t know what he was doing all along.

It’s not more than ten minutes before Dev slows his horse and allows the rest of us to catch him, forming a close line. I have to admit that Rhys knows how to handle a horse. Something warm went through me when he lifted me into the saddle like I weigh nothing. When he settled me on his lap like his father had done for his mother, I felt precious and cared for.

I should not be thinking about sex when we’re all going to die, but we’re talking about a fertility god here. It’s damn near impossible to not think about what those big hands can do to me. Especially now that I have actual proof of what they can do to me.

Stroke me like silk and heat and power. Worship me. Make me feel like I’ve never felt before. Like there’s a place I can go where I’m safe and loved and the world doesn’t matter.

“What the actual fuck?” The king always seems to know how to start a conversation.

Devinshea slows his stallion, his arm fully around his wife’s waist. “Yes, I have questions. So many questions.”

Neil barks like he agrees. His white wolf has been running next to Brendan’s, while Fluffy took the lead and the other hounds protected our backs.

“I think this is your time, my goddess,” Rhys says, his lips against my ear. “You are the one who saved us, after all.”

“Shy figured it out,” the queen announces. “She was talking to some spirits who haunt the pond, and she managed to put the pieces together. Shy, what exactly did they tell you?”

“Clem kept talking about the king,” I explain. “At first I thought she meant King Daniel, but it became clear she was talking about the high priest.”

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