Page 26 of Beneath a Shattered Sky
With a bow, he strides back towards the sea, and my gut sinks as I realise that although the rest of my males have returned, they haven’t brought Ciara or Kitarni with them.
“Be careful,” I call after Cyreus, but I’m not sure he hears me over the crashing of the waves.
I’m allied with him and Ciara now, for better or worse. I can only hope that they prove to be better rulers than Eero if we all come out of this alive.
“I’ll get the horses,” Jaro says, stomping off ahead without another word.
His callousness is a blow to the heart, a dismissal I wasn’t braced for. One of the things that was getting me through this was the hope that maybe, at the end of all this, Jaro might hold me and let me fall apart. But his actions make it clear nothing has changed.
“There’s still the issue of the prince,” Drystan grouches. “And the Fomorians.”
“They’re coming with us,” I say immediately. “All of them.” I can feel his eyes burning into me, but Titania’s ghostly hand slips onto my shoulder reassuringly, giving me the strength to add, “Why isn’t Kitarni with you?”
I might have complained about her blind faith before, but I could really use some of it now. What happened in Siabetha might’ve taught me that I can’t allow my Guard to just steamroll over my instincts as I have been, but it’s going to take my confidence a little bit of time to catch up.
“The high priestess insisted on staying behind,” Drystan grates, wisely deciding not to test me on the subject of Caed. “Her plan is to fight the Temple’s schism from the inside. She believes that she can win back the support of the Grand Clerics.”
“She did what?”
“She’s not in danger,” he reassures me. “That asshole, Mervyn, has taken off to spread the word of your ‘corruption’across the courts. He thinks it’s his holy mission or some other bullshit. The other clerics are old and peaceful. They won’t harm her.”
Great, just what we need. A fanatic spreading vile propaganda across the courts.
“With your permission, Nicnevin, I’ll hunt him down myself.” Dare stands, still cradling his mate. “It’s the least I can do.”
Send my brother to kill a priest for speaking slander?
“Send the Fomorians,” Drystan suggests. “Or the redcap. It’s his skill set, after all.”
“I’m not sure that would solve the issue,” I hedge. “Surely his death at our hands would give more credence to his lies.” Sighing, I wonder if I’m being too soft about it, then shake my head. “The best way to deal with him is to disgrace him. We can’t follow the original pilgrimage route, because Eero will have spies waiting for us, but there are other shrines. If Danu continues bestowing miracles when I bless them, the fae will know he’s spewing nonsense.”
“For the record,” Caed mutters. “I’m with the sticky prince and the dour knight. Enemies rarely cause you problems from six feet under.”
“No one asked you, Fomorian” Drystan snaps.
I eye the dullahan, considering whether I need to repeat my charm to stop them arguing, but he glares at me with amber eyes that dare me to try it.
“Caed is one of you,” I murmur.
He shakes his head. “He isfarfrom one of us.”
Brushing him off, because I know that nothing I say will make a difference, I turn to Dare. “Go to Pavellen. Speak to Aiyana and let her know what’s going on. Tell her to shore up the border with the Summer Court in case Eero and his Fomorian allies decide to attack there.”
They need a chance to recover after what they’ve been through, and Madoc will keep them safe.
The Spring Court is well defended, and Aiyana wouldn’t dare cross me again. I refuse to lose another brother on this stupid pilgrimage.
He bows. “As you wish.”
He’s still too formal, and my heart aches. Stepping towards him, I place my hand on his shoulder, unable to hug him with his sleeping mate in his arms.
“When this war is over, I want to hear firsthand how our mother reacted to you sticking our fathers to the dinner table when they were trying to scold you,” I say quietly, bringing a ghost of a smile to his lips.
“Aye, there are a lot of stories you should hear. Bram and I?—”
Something in my expression stops him.
“What?” Dare asks, looking over our group. “I thought Bram was travelling with you. Florian sent word?—”
