Page 132 of Atop the Faerie Throne
“But I don’t know how I did that.” My pretty mate’s breath hitches in panic, her lovely pulse starting to race beneath my fingers. “It was a bargain I made with my adoptive brother.”
“It was Danu’s magic, rooted in her control over the realm,” Kitarni corrects. “You forget, you are the Goddess incarnate. Her dominion over the fabric of this world extends to you also. But you must be prepared, which means you and I shall study this book on our journey.”
“And we’ll protect her while she destroys the portal.” Jaro’s mouth turns down, like he’s upset at the idea of our glorious mate in the middle of a battle.
Boring seelie.
“That means we have to go down into the Deep Caves,” Caed mutters, equally displeased. “So I suppose there are some things you ought to know about tunnel wyrms.”
I blink into his face before I can help it. “Do they have sharp teeth? They sound like they have sharp teeth.”
“And paralytic breath,” he says.
My cock, already hard from being pressed up against my pet’s round ass, turns painful at the thought. “Claws?”
Caed rolls his eyes. “And a nearly impenetrable hide.”
I blink back to Rose. “Do you fancy a new coat?” Wait. “How many do I need to kill for a coat?”
“You could make her a full wardrobe from just one,” Prae replies.
Ooh… If I kill two, we could have matching outfits! I pause as I check the small arsenal I’m wearing.
“Be right back,” I tell my mate, kissing her again just because I can. “I forgot some things.”
It sounds like I need a bigger knife.
Forty-Three
Rhoswyn
Fellgotha lurks beneath the thickest, blackest cloud I’ve ever seen. Illuminated by flashes of lightning and drenched beneath sheets of fierce rain, the craggy mountain seems angry. There are more plants on the barren slopes than there were the last time I was here, but they don’t do much to offset the skitter of nerves that being here brings.
Kitarni’s books said that, in cases where Danu’s magic and the realm beyond the portal are incompatible, freak seismic and weather events are a natural consequence. The land sees Balor’s portal as a threat and is reacting accordingly. This is Faerie’s doing. There’s nothing to be afraid of.
But the clouds remind me too much of the carvings of the bàsron in the Deep Caves, and I can’t help searching for those pale skull-like faces in every shadow.
The dark line in the cliffs that marks the entrance to the Fomorian fortress is barely visible, but I know it’s there. Beyond that, who knows how many of them wait for us?
My Guard and I will be leaving the worst of the battle in the hands of Prae and her mates, at her insistence. Our focus will be the Deep Caves and finding Elatha, who will no doubt have scores of his own warriors with him.
Then there are the tunnel wyrms.
Kitarni brewed an antidote she believes will counter the effects of the creatures’ venom. There are vials tucked safely into my pouch, along with healing potions, should Caed be injured, since I can no longer send him energy down the bond. On top of that, we have charms tucked into our clothes that should render us immune to their paralytic breath. It won’t solve everything, but I hope it will be enough.
We just need a fighting chance against those beasts.
Drystan’s hands tense on my shoulders as a renewed burst of fear leaks from me. He’d been caressing my neck with his thumbs, and I mourn the loss of the commanding, intimate touch even as I curse my own emotions.
Of course, my Guard felt that.
“I’m fine,” I reassure him, though he can’t hear me. “I’m just nervous.”
No response. I don’t know why I keep trying.
“The ships are weighing anchor here,” Jaro says, abandoning his discussion with Florian and the captain on the upper deck. “We’re well-glamoured, and with any luck we’ll get far into the mountain before they realise we’re even there.”
“There’s so much iron down there that it won’t stay a surprise attack for long,” Caed mutters. “But it makes sense to use what advantages we have.”
