Page 113 of The Crown of Moonlight
We give our thanks to all the men and watch as the boats head back down the loch.They’ve said they’ll pull into an inlet nearby and try to wait for us.
“If the patrols spot you or anyone poses a threat, don’t wait,” Flora says.“And if we’re not back by dark tomorrow, get home the best you can.We’re grateful for all you’ve done.”
“We wouldn’t have the choice to help you if you hadn’t saved us,” the boatman says, and several of the others nod.
The boatman’s eyes shift from Flora to me and back to her, to the Crown of Flame etched in magic across her brow, at the way the light flickers across the twisted vines and leaves like living fire.And Flora is the one he bows to, making his choice between us clear.Then he signals to the other Domhnall men, nods his head to me and the other Riders, and turns to float the boats back out onto the loch.
Sean scowls after him in disapproval, then shoots a glare at Flora.Lorcan does a triple flip with the knife he’s been fondling before dropping it back into its sheath, and a rune flares on his left knuckle as his eyes meet Sean’s in a silent conversation that sets my teeth on edge.
“Daire,” I call out softly.“Stealth and inattention, please.”
He triggers two of the power runes along his jaw.The first creates a bubble of silence that will muffle the horses’ hoofbeats, the jingle of bridles, and the sound of our voices.The second rune pushes focus away from us in case we’re seen, and makes it difficult for anyone to notice we are there.
Daire and Niall are both still spent from the magic they used on the boat, but Daire’s sister has spent years etching the runes for him.They’re far more powerful than the runes the others purchased from Chulainn’s palace smiths for the better part of three years’ wages.
In the open country here, when we know there’s a trap set for us, it’s worth asking Daire to push the small amount of magic his runes require to activate.At the same time, that power makes the runes a two-headed axe.
We pay for that convenience; even “low-cost” runes leave a wake.A Grey with magic-sense will feel them from a long way off.
Proof of that arrives soon enough when one, then three, then five of the purple witch-lights Greys like to use wink into existence in the nearby reeds.The glowing balls sweep across the shallows towards us.We kick the horses into a run, and our silence holds, but a signal fire flaring on a nearby hilltop brings us to a sudden halt.
“I have that,” Flora says, and she gathers up clouds the way she did when the soldier triggered a fire amulet to start the beacon.The process is faster this time—she’s gotten better.It takes her only moments to focus a downpour onto the flames to put them out.
I’m not sure that was fast enough to keep it from being seen, but I stand a few minutes watching the surrounding hills for other beacons.When nothing else lights, I catch up with the others as they ride down the soldiers hiding in the reeds.Fortunately, there’s only a single Grey with them.With Daire using his runes to baffle the traces of magic and the sounds of battle, we manage the deaths with minimal loss of time apart from a small delay when Flora insists on healing a minor cut that Daire sustained from an ordinary sword.
“It’s nothing,” Daire says.
Flora arches an eyebrow at him.“Like your dead Riders’ wounds were nothing?How do you know the blade wasn’t coated with celestial iron?”
Daire shakes his head, rage kindling in his eyes.“Fucking Vheara.”
“Exactly.”Flora’s lips tighten.She checks the wound, but there’s little to see, and when she knits the flesh, there’s no sign of smoke rising from her skin.I’m not certain whether to take that as a sign that there’s no celestial iron present, or maybe only that there isn’t any fever.
Either way, Flora is magnificent, and I see the way the other Riders watch her.Even Lorcan—maybe especially Lorcan.I wouldn’t trust him an inch with her, but the glaze of lust in his eyes at the power she’s using is undeniable.Apart from Sean, who hates her with a ferocity I do not understand, and Cathal, who I suspect has never lusted for anything that wasn’t written in a book, the others have all worn that same dazed expression at one time or another.
We continue riding single file through alder and willow along a burn that flows into the loch.Ronan rides first, scouting ahead with his farsight rune activated on the back of his neck and Rua running in front of him on silent feet.Moonlight slicks his bronze skin as he signals for caution whenever something seems out of place.I ride behind him, followed by Flora so she can try to sense men and Greys around us.The Shadehounds keep close beside her.Fergal won a brief argument with Daire about who would ride at Flora’s back, and Daire—being Daire—throws half-hearted jabs at Fergal as they ride.Daire’s usual chaos.
The remaining Riders follow at a greater distance, but I’m aware that Cathal occasionally crowds close to Sean to continue an ongoing conversation.
I’d hoped that seeing Flora working with them might have softened both of them towards her, but I can’t think what else they would be discussing.I catch Niall’s eye as we skirt the village and angle my chin back in their direction.He nods, letting me know he’s aware of it as well, though I’m not sure whether he can catch anything they’re saying.
There’s no time to stop and force a confrontation.We have fifteen hours before dawn.
Fifteen hours for me to open the doorway.Fifteen hours before Flora dies if she hasn’t earned the Crown of Moonlight.
We pass the village without sighting a Grey, a red coat, or the Cymbeul plaid.A dog barks once, but more than likely, that’s nothing to do with us.
We cut inland along a river, weaving in and out of the water to muddle our tracks.Silt sucks at the horses’ hooves, and alder catkins stipple the sluggish current.
Ronan’s hand snaps up, signalling for us to halt.A deadfall rigged with turf and a cut spruce trunk squats over the deer track up ahead.Lorcan’s knife flicks out to slice the rope, and Daire’s silence rune is still active, so it contains the sound.
The silence is a reminder that we’ve relied on Daire’s magic for too long already.
I turn to look at Flora.“Can you raise a mist?Daire will need time to recover his strength.”
She nods and pulls fog from the river to travel with us while Fergal and Ronan trade off using their silence runes to keep us from being heard.The mist has the disadvantage of keeping us in a cloud of cold and unrelenting damp that seeps into our bones.
Vheara’s forces are out in strength.Ronan points out sloppy footprints along the riverbank, and as we pass a cart track, the mud is churned by men and horses.Fergal uses his earth magic to smooth our tracks, and Lorcan draws water from the mud to create puddles where we crossed so that the lack of prints doesn’t seem suspicious.We stay to the trees where we can after that, weaving through birches and alders, but it’s less than an hour before Flora warns us to stop.
