Page 13 of Crown of Darkness
The Old Ones who ruled Arcaedia before the fae arrived are the ones who consecrated the Hallows and bound the power of the ley lines to the stone henges that litter the countryside. The fae might be able to use them as portals, but the Old Ones could access the power and wield it like a whip.
Until the Seelie locked them away in prison worlds that are tied to the Hallows.
Somehow, I accessed that power.
And when I made a deal with the Mother of Night, she told me I was theleanabh an dàn—the child of destiny that is bound to release her and the other Old Ones from their prison world.
Thiago said we couldn’t allow theleanabh an dànto live, in case they fall into the wrong hands.
He loves me. I know he loves me.
But at what point do I become too much of a burden? Between my mother and her war, my bargain with the Mother of Night, and now this, how far will he go before he starts to regret marrying me?
“Vi?”
I realize he’s holding out a hand toward me as the Hallow starts vibrating.
I reach for him, curling my fingers through his. Thiago’s my anchor in any storm. I spent my entire life wishing someone would love me, and even now there’s a part of me that thinks he’s too good to be true.
“We’ll be all right,” he murmurs, giving it a squeeze. “We’re ready for anything your mother has planned.”
I’ll tell him the truth one day. I swear I will.
But right now, I force a smile and rest my other hand on the hilt of my sword, prepared for anything.
The Hallow ignites, plunging us into darkness.
Every part of me feels stretched thin. Whirling. Set adrift.
And then we land with a shudder in Ruthvien.
* * *
“No ambush,”Finn mutters as we spread out from the Hallow.
“Find them,” Thiago commands, and the handsome hunter vanishes into the trees that loom around us.
“It won’t happen here. My mother likes suspense. She’ll want to see your face as her trap encloses us.” Even so, my heart races as we scour the ruins of Ruthvien, searching for a hint of danger.
Nothing.
Just a broken city, snarled over with brambles. The forest is slowly reclaiming it, but I catch a glimpse of polished white marble. Ruthvien used to be the Pearl of the West once.
Waves crash against a distant shore. And the jagged remains of a castle perch atop a hill, reaching desperately for the sky as if to escape the forest’s clutches. This is no new forest. There’s a malevolent feeling to the trees, and little blinking eyes watch us from the shadows. I’m used to demi-fey fluttering through every inch of Ceres with callous disregard for the fae that tramp through their city, but these demi-fey lurk.
And I swear the trees shift, as if to keep us within their field of awareness.
It stands to reason. When the Hallow in the north imploded, the energy transformed everything around it. They say there are packs of deer with sharp teeth that hunt the plains of Taranis, and birds that breathe fire. The fae didn’t survive—something about their magic is incompatible with the Hallow magic—but the creatures did.
“Found them,” Finn murmurs, appearing out of nowhere. “The Asturian embassy have set up on a grassy knoll overlooking the sea. Three tents. Only twenty guards, from what I could see, which means she obeyed the set terms. The area around them is clear for fifty feet.” He nods to me. “Your mother’s banners are there. And I caught a glimpse of her within the main tent.”
“Then let’s do this,” Thiago says grimly. He turns to Baylor. “Ready?”
Baylor stares toward the tents with a hard glare. “Ready.”
“Keep it reined in until I give the signal.”
Baylor turns wolfish eyes on him, filled with blood and vengeance. But he nods.
