Page 136 of Atop the Faerie Throne
“So much for being subtle,” I mutter, returning Bree’s comforting squeeze of my hand.
The Goddess is just lucky that there isn’t too much iron up here. Enough to give me a light headache, but not to sever our bond.
I find myself suddenly glad that Drystan doesn’t know what’s going on. He’d almost certainly spank my ass if he did. Forcing down the answering pang of sadness that errant thought brings, I follow Bree’s lead down and over the edge of the waterfall. Salty water splashes me, filling my nostrils with the scent of brine, as I pull my wings back, muscles straining to hover in place.
The underground fortress looms over everything. The bitterblues and smoky braziers illuminate it with the same awe-inspiring mix of blue and orange light as before.
However, it’s been supplanted as the most terrifying feature of the great cavern.
When I was last here, the waterfall plummeted down into a small hole in the rock below, and it was that narrow, terrifying passage that I fled down to escape Elatha. It led me to the lake in the Deep Caves, and then to Bram.
Now, that tiny hole in the rock has been widened, dug out into a vast dark pit that’s partially swallowed the nearby market. It hosts a single, narrow stone stairwell which descends haphazardly into the fathomless depths, supported by rickety stone pillars that don’t look safe. It’s so deep that I can’t see the lake at the bottom, and so endless that the very sight of it fills me with dread.
I’ve never been gladder of my wings in my life than I am now, because if we’re going down there, I don’t want to take the stairs.
“Is that it?” Bree asks, drawing me close until it’s easier to tuck in my wings and let him hold us in the air.
The walls of the cavern tremble, small fragments of rock falling loose as the entire space rumbles like thunder. A handful of bitterblues fall, the plummeting fungi reminiscent of falling stars, and the thick clouds of dust add to the ominous impression.
I can’t be certain, but if I had to guess, I’d say the tunnel wyrms are unhappy about the adjustments to their demesne.
“Yes.” I steel myself, fists clenching to conceal the way my hands are shaking. “Down there.”
Bree hums thoughtfully under his breath. “We’ll stay in the air until the others get here.”
I settle against his chest, breathing in his honey scent mixed with the sea as we watch the Fomorians grasp what’s going on. Glamours drop as the first shouts go up, and the melee begins in earnest.
The element of surprise has given them a slight advantage, but the Fomorians are warriors. They live in a culture where they expect to be attacked at any moment.
Catching them off-guard was never going to be easy or enough.
I spot Lore easily, his wide-brimmed hat practically shining as he slashes through guards on the rooftops with a manic cackle, blinking around their crossbow bolts and disabling them before they can aim at Caed, Drystan, and Jaro, who are battling their way towards us. Jaro’s shield can’t protect against iron, but he’s expanded it so widely that only longer weapons can reach him. Caed’s swords hover on the outside, slicing through attackers, and Drystan’s fire spreads like a carpet in all directions.
My heart flutters slightly with pride as I realise this is how they were always meant to be. Their magic fits together likepieces of a puzzle. If not for the headache that intensified the moment we crossed the waterfall, I’d join them, adding my spirits to the mix and Bree’s animals.
If I do, I’ll only be putting them at risk. I promised to save my powers until we were in the Deep Caves, where the only iron we need to worry about is the ore in the rocks. After what happened in Elfhame, none of my mates are keen for me to overexert myself.
Secretly, I’d resolved to break that promise if they were struggling. I needn’t have worried.
They’re handling themselves just fine.
The only one I can’t see is Wraith, but every so often I hear howls mixed with screams coming from the direction of the fortress, so I assume he’s simply having his fun. With any luck, he’s protecting Prae and my brothers.
Bree’s wings flare, disrupting the steady eddies of air around us as he starts to lower us towards the narrow stairs. We reunite with the rest of my Guard at the top step.
“Just when I thought the Deep Caves couldn’t get any cheerier,” Caed announces, spreading his arms wide as if introducing the others to the pit. One of his ghost swords cuts a Fomorian with a battleaxe in half behind him.
“It really adds to the atmosphere of the place,” Lore agrees, blinking beside us with a severed head in his hand. “I love the decorations.”
Cocking his head to one side, he raises the still-dripping skull over the yawning pit and… drops it.
“In what universe do you expect to be able to hear a splash in the middle of battle?” Jaro demands, shifting back with a huff.
“Oh, I didn’t want to see how deep it was.” Lore wipes his hand on his cap. “I just really, really wanted to drop something in the ginormous hole.”
Caed snorts, and Bree’s ears twitch in amusement, but the moment is lost when Drystan folds his arms and narrows the glowing orbs that pass for eyes in my direction. A second later, he points his finger at the ground in a motion that cannot be misinterpreted.
“I am absolutely not staying here,” I tell him, barely resisting the urge to stick my tongue out. “You need me to close the portal.”
