Page 103 of Faerie Fate
“We tried to round up a group of pixies but they got away from us,” Mike said. Helping.
The others didn’t believe him until Noren stepped up and growled, his hackles raised.
“You have a direwolf!” The main soldier sounded surprised. “You Unseelie?”
“No. Just lucky enough to have one.” I rested my hand on Noren’s head and waited, daring the soldiers to say something against us now.
A second soldier held out his hand and flame bubbled up above his palm, the same amber-tinted hue as the flames engulfing the boats.
“Let them join,” he said, sounding hungry. “The more fae we have, the quicker this fight ends and those scum are wiped away.”
My mouth filled with the taste of something sour. They were talking about pixies like lower lifeforms who didn’t deserve to live.
Magic bubbled up inside of me in answer to the flame, to the discriminatory remarks. If I’d had my full strength, I’d gut them. I’d tear them apart with my claws and make them pay for their hatred. But then I’d be no better than them. My scar throbbed in time with my heartbeat.
“Let’s get started, then. We’ve cut off their access to the river.” The man gestured to the boats and the flame in his palm grew. “Now we’ll herd them toward the palace. They won’t stand a chance.”
“You planning on lighting the stones on fire, Grant?” one of the men joked.
The soldier, Grant, barked out a laugh and gathered us toward the hill leading to the palace. “Damn right. Whatever it takes.”
One of the soldiers slapped Mike on the arm. “You’ll love this,” the man assured Mike. “Although it will go easier for you if you have armor. Did you lose yours?”
There was no good way to distract them and break off.
They herded us right into the worst of the battle.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
We were completely screwed.
Mike grabbed my hand, still talking with the soldier in tight-fitting armor that seemed to reflect the shimmer of the distant flames against the mist. The burning boats behind us felt like a warning that we were going down no matter what we did.
My heart raced, my pulse a terrible gallop in my skull. If we tried to get away, we’d expose ourselves. They’d realize we weren’t the allies we’d claimed to be and might execute us on the spot and be done with it. We’d be killed before we posed a threat to them and their war.
Out of options, we let ourselves be led along the ridge, closer to the palace and skirting the torched morsana fields, the soldiers chatting happily about their plans for the fight.
“This ends today,” the one in the lead said. “Then we’ll never have to worry about those pixies again. The morsana weapons are the only real magic they have going for them, and once we destroy every last bloom, they’ll never be a threat to our way of life again.”
My stomach twisted. “Damn right,” I agreed weakly.
The clash of weapons and the screaming got louder as we approached. We once against stepped off the rippling ridge and onto the stone path leading to the wide gate of the palace. There, magic protected the entrance from the flames. The walls pulsed with power and the glow became tunnel-like.
Mike squeezed my hand when the lead soldier looked over his shoulder, his gaze hardening when he saw us. We were out of time.
“Take no prisoners and show them no mercy,” the man said. “Be vigilant. The pixies are small but they are fierce.” His eyes seemed to dance. A fucking sadist enjoying this bloodshed.
The soldiers escorted us into the heart of the raging battle. Their group joined the fray with a yell. Magic pulsed, and a blast from a morsana weapon left a trail of acid where we’d just stepped.
The bitter taste of a future stripped right out of my hands filled my mouth. But there was no time to wash it away.
Mike pulled me down to him, his face close enough for his lips to brush my temple. “We have to hide.”
“It’s going to look suspicious,” I argued.
Bronwen knocked into us as the soldiers palmed their blades and we three hunkered down near the wall.
“We’re already out of place. We’re either going to look like enemies to the pixies and get mowed down by their morsana weapons, or the fae will find out we aren’t with them and hunt us,” Mike fired back. His golden brows, a little singed, drew together in a fierce frown.
