Page 116 of Beneath a Shattered Sky
Jaro has no clue about the little horde of dead fae surrounding us, but the instant Bree dashes forward and slits the throat of a sentry, his golden shield wraps around us. Reminding myself to wait is the hardest part. The danger urges me todo something.
Jaro’s hand rests lightly on my arm, and I jump, turning to look at him guiltily. My hand slips into his, and his warmth grounds me as he offers me a reassuring look.
He may not be able to see what I’m doing, but it’s clear he can read my nerves. I wish it wasn’t so obvious.
The next sentries are gathered around a brazier halfway up the hill. Caed takes out the one closest to us while Prae takes out his companion, perfectly in sync. The two Fomorians are well practised at this. Everyone is. Except me.
“It was always going to be this way,” Maeve reassures me as she appears on my other side. “First battle’s always the hardest, kid, but I can’t say they get much easier, either.”
I acknowledge her statement with a heavy sigh, but my mouth is too dry to answer properly. Not when Drystan has drawn a sword from somewhere. That means things are about to begin. No turning back now.
The portcullis is dented and warped, hanging drunkenly over the remains of the Fort’s outer wall. There are a handful of guards assigned to it, and my heart gallops as they spot us, kicking and stuttering like it wants to burst free of my ribs.
Jaro pulls us to a stop, but the others continue forwards. Swords clash and alarms fill the night. Right. I have a job to do. Danu’s magic surges through me and into the spirits around me, giving them physical form.
“Take back the fort.” My voice cracks under the strain of the magic flowing through me. There are perhaps two dozen spirits here, almost equal to the number Cressida had me practising with in Illidwen, but already I’ve held them for some time. “Don’t let any harm come to my people.”
They move past me in a rush of cold that makes Jaro shiver, but I’m not done.
This close to the fort, there are more fallen fae warriors, and I send my power to them too, including them in my orders. Suddenly, a party of almost fifty warriors is heading for that wickedly spiked gate, surging through it.
Jaro’s axe is out, but he doesn’t need it as we cross the threshold ourselves, emerging into a courtyard painted with blood and fire.
“You got this?” Maeve asks, her eagerness plain on her face, and I nod, sending a little more magic her way.
I’m a vessel, a conduit, and nothing more.
And yetfinallyI feel like I’m doing something to help. Every clash of the ghostly weapons against the Fomorians’ is proof that I’m not a damsel anymore. But I can’t let the elation hit me. If I let go, even for a second, everything will burst.
My miniature army is invulnerable as my power flows through them, solidifying their weapons, but not their bodies. I can feel all of them like they’re extra limbs. Heavy and draining. There’s iron here too, brought by the Fomorians, and my head begins to pound on top of everything else.
“Rosie,” Jaro murmurs, and I shake my head.
“I’ve got it.” If everyone could stop talking to me, that would help me concentrate.
“Rosie, your nose is bleeding.”
What? The spirits flicker for a second, but I shore them back up, drawing more power from Danu to compensate.
“I’ll deal with it later,” I reassure him absently, squeezing his hand.
Got to focus now. Can’t let go. Mustn’t let go…
Something slaps sharply at my cheeks, and a snarl rises from beside me.
“It’s done! Let go, little queen.”
Caed? Why is Caed yelling at me?
“Rose,” Maeve sounds sad. “Pull back and ground, kid. You’re channelling too much power.”
Ground… ground what? Wait? When did Jaro’s hold become supportive? My thoughts are a foggy soup in my head, slow and sluggish.
“Rose, fucking drop the ghosts, now.”
Caed sounds furious, but I’m shocked when Jaro agrees with him. “You’ve got to let go. We won, Rosie.”
“Come on, dragonfly. We’re all here.”
