Page 104 of Beneath a Shattered Sky
Reluctantly, I relinquish his care to her, narrowing my eyes at Gryffin when he bows—because I still haven’t fully forgiven him, even if she seems to have.
Jaro nods at the two newcomers, heading over to where Drystan is pulling food out of satchels to begin making a meal.
“Nicnevin.” The priest bows low, and even the wounded warrior dips his chin, though it clearly pains him to do so.
“Your brother, Prince Uther, and his mate Sir Illarion, Knight of Illidwen,” Bree murmurs under his breath, indicating first the priest, then the warrior.
“I’m glad you’re both safe.” A little of the tension bleeds from my shoulders, and I stand, approaching them slowly. “May I heal you both? We have food, too.”
Uther is less severely injured than his mate, but one of his wings is held out from his body at an uncomfortable angle, the tendons bent. He has the same piercing blue eyes as Madoc, but his hair is black, with blood-red streaks dyed into it.
“A healing would be welcome, but we must leave swiftly.” He looks genuinely apologetic as he kneels and checks his mate’s wounds again. “I wished to meet you and thank your Guard for his intervention in the camp, but our legion is waiting for us to return and secure the bank of the river. Your Guard’s actions have opened up an opportunity for us to call in reinforcements and begin setting up new defences.”
He sounds almost in awe of Caed, and not for the first time, I wonder what happened in that camp.
“They’re heading for Elfhame.” Drystan walks past with a scowl. “It makes sense that they’ll draw most of their forces there to try to take the palace wall.”
“All the more reason to act now.” Illarion grunts. “Cressida will want us to use their distraction to our advantage and retake as much of our land as we can.”
“We won’t abandon Elfhame,” Uther assures me, as I bend down and take Titania’s offered hand, silently willing her healing magic into Illarion. “Bram visited me and reminded me of our mother’s instructions, not that I’d forgotten. My loyalty remains to the Nicnevin. As soon as our position is secure, we’ll ride to the capital.”
Shaking my head, I release my brother’s healed mate and frown at him. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I have the sight.” Uther takes a deep breath. “I’m a medium. Bram’s spirit came to remind me of my promise upon his death.” He stops, smiling as a silver-and-black fox runs through the clearing and bumps his head against Uther’s knee affectionately. “Hey, brother.”
Bram doesn’t shift, though I know he can. His vulpine face regards me sadly, and the sight of him makes my chest ache painfully until I have to bite my lower lip to hold myself together.
“I’m sorry. If not for me, you’d have been able to see one another again,” I apologise, offering my hand.
Uther takes it as he cocks his head to one side. “That wasn’t how he explained it. It was his choice, was it not?”
The explanation I want to give won’t form, so I choose to focus on healing him instead.
He takes my silence as an answer and nods sagely. “A word from one who counsels the spirits of the fallen? The guilt we feel at a loved one’s passing is almost always self-inflicted. Bram made the choice, and I don’t believe he would take it back if he could, regardless of the outcome.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I keep quiet, watching Bram as his fox twirls around us, and trying to ignore the weight that settles in my ribs. Titania and I finish healing Uther, and she disappears, leaving me to ground the power through my Guard with a sigh.
Caed coughs again, waving Prae away as he forces himself to his feet. The suddenness of the movement startles Bram, and the fox darts away into the trees, leaving a hollow ache in my chest.
“So, the mad son of a bitch lives?” Illarion also stands, grinning. “What? Cat-sìth got your tongue? You wouldn’t shut up before they dragged you off to the commander’s tent.”
Caed shrugs, eyes roving the camp but refusing to land on me. “Maybe I’m just catching my breath after freeing your sorry asses and the rest of your useless fairy legion.”
“You could’ve done it faster.” I want to smack Illarion for that comment, but Caed just laughs.
No one else seems to catch it, but the sound rings a little empty. It can’t be easy, killing the people he once thought of as his own.
“Yeah, probably. I was too busy sending a message.”
A message? To who? Elatha?
Uther grimaces. “I wondered why the butchery was so… extreme. Do tell. What point were you making by ripping out their tongues?”
Lore grins easily, grabbing a pouch from Wraith’s saddle and shoving a handful of dried berries into his mouth. “Must be his redcap ancestry. Finch loves a little fun mutilation, too. Maybe you can bond with your grandpappy over that.”
Caed rolls his eyes, and I clear my throat. “Reyni owes you an apology.”
“I don’t want it.” The Fomorian takes a step towards the campfire, wobbling slightly as he accepts a piece of jerky from his cousin and shoves it into his mouth. “Besides, there’s no time. We’re heading for the Winter Court now, right?”
