Page 6 of Crown of Roses
Hot bile rose up in the back of Maeve’s throat, but she couldn’t bring herself to look away from the scene of horror unraveling below. Anger churned her stomach, and her blood curse throbbed, burning for release. She longed for that power, wanted nothing more than to explode from the inside with fury, and bring its wrath upon all the creatures who stood in her way. It seethed, prowled inside of her like a monster of its own. But if she dared ask to have her cuffs removed, there was no telling what sort of uncontrollable power would erupt from within her. All she knew was something had to be done. She had to stop this attack. Her beautiful city, with its life and vibrancy, was dying.
She spun on her heel, ready to sprint back into the throes of war, when Casimir caught her around the waist with one arm.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He held her back from charging into the fray.
“I’m going to help.” Maeve struggled against his hold and attempted to twist out of his arms. “Those are my people.”
“And you are their heir.” Casimir jerked his head at Saoirse. “Take her back to the castle.”
“What? No!” Maeve kicked and ducked out of Saoirse’s reach.
Casimir scowled, his sword drawn. “It’s not safe for you here, Maeve.”
“And I refuse to stand by and hide away in a castle while Kells suffers.” Maeve pulled her blade from its sheath. She plucked a throwing star from her belt with her other hand. “You know damn good and well you need me down there. I’m going to help, whether you like it or not.” She straightened and set her jaw. “I’ll fight both of you if I must.”
Casimir shared a look with Saoirse, who shrugged. “Sun and sky.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “You are so damned stubborn.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Maeve’s boots pounded against the deteriorating stone path as she rushed back to the line of battle. She came upon her first opponent, a creature of night. Its bony limbs moved like smoke and shadows. Glowing orbs pulsed in place of its eyes, and it loosed a guttural growl as tapered fingers like birch bark reached for her throat. She spun from its grasp, and its shifting head reared back in fury. The monster dislocated its jaw and stretched its mouth wide, as though it intended to swallow her whole. Spirals of shadows descended upon her. She vaulted upward and brought her dagger down in an arc, slicing through the bark-like arms.
Its howl was cut short as the shadowy creature turned to dust.
Just then, a flash of moonlight streaked before her.
Saoirse.
Her silver braid whipped over one shoulder as she slid across the stone pavement on her knees. In the next breath, Saoirse swung her sword, taking down two creatures at once. She didn’t even wait to see if she hit her target. She never missed her mark. Instead, she called out to Maeve from over her shoulder. “Aim for the neck!”
Maeve dropped low and dodged a blow from another shifting demon. She popped up and slashed her dagger across its chest. It froze, turned to ash, and dissolved completely. The corner of Saoirse’s mouth curved upward. “Or just keep doing that.”
A beast ambled toward her with a hissing snarl, and it towered over her in height. Two massive curved horns protruded from its head and its furrowed brow was so disjointed, it jutted out over a pair of yellow eyes. Barbs bulged from its spine, from the knees and elbows, and Maeve swore it smiled when it looked upon her. With arms as long as its body and razor-sharp talons for hands, it was capable of scouring the flesh of its victims, so the muscles snapped and bones cracked.
An earth-shattering growl split through the sky. She leapt up and plunged her dagger into its chest. Just like the other monsters she killed, it disintegrated to ash.
A whimpering cry sounded from behind her. Maeve spun around to see a small child cowering beneath the wrath of one of the shadow monsters. She couldn’t be any older than three, and the creature had already unlocked its jaw, ready to devour her. Maeve took off, sprinting toward the child, her legs firing on a mission to protect the innocent. The little girl’s scream chilled her blood, and right as the shadows unfurled, Maeve vaulted into the air, dragging her blade down a spine of smoke.
The smell of wet leaves and decay hung heavy in the air. Maeve scooped the child up, holding her close.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s okay.” Maeve brushed back the girl’s brown hair with one hand. Tears mingled with dirt on her round cheeks and large, dark brown eyes stared up at her. Small arms wrapped tightly around her neck and the child buried her face in Maeve’s chest. “You’re safe with me.”
But no sooner had she spoken, another horned beast emerged, its talon-like hands swiping out to rip her apart.
Maeve staggered back and readied herself for the inevitable. She crouched low to the ground, bundling the girl into her chest, leaving her back exposed to the beast. But the strike never came.
She looked up and found Casimir. His sword moved through the air like lightning. With each strike, another beast met its death at the tip of his blade. Maeve stayed low and held on tight to the trembling body in her arms. “What are these things?”
“They’re fae,” Casimir grunted from beside her as he took on two more creatures. There was a slash across his chest and the fabric of his vest stuck to his skin.
“Fae?” Saoirse’s voice came from behind them, protecting Maeve’s other side. But Saoirse’s disbelief was quickly replaced with focus as she launched two daggers at once. Jumping over the body as it crumpled to the ground, she yanked her blades out of its chest. Straddling the beast, she crossed her daggers high above her head, and brought them down together, slashing the monster’s throat. “These are unlike any fae I’ve ever seen.”
Without warning, the creatures Casimir declared to be fae vanished, as though they never existed. There were a few wails of hope, a few shouts of victory, but the terror they inflicted upon Kells came into view once the fog of battle cleared. Shops and homes were reduced to soot and piles of stone. The sky was dark from fire and smoke, and the world around them smelled of death. The metallic tang of blood lingered with the scent of the sea, and the stench made Maeve’s gut clench. She would find a way to rid Kells of this vile attack, of this nightmare of a memory.
The streets were a river of blood. Of despair. Of tragedy.
In the distance, she could hear Casimir shouting orders to the other soldiers. To search everywhere for the source, to see if any more of the fae terrorized the streets, to setup a barricade around the chasm which still seemed to throb with something Maeve couldn’t place.
A sob broke free from the child in her arms and she glanced down. The girl’s eyes were wide with fright as she absorbed the chaos and destruction around her.
