Demon Dark (14 page)

Fairy Knights appeared from all sides. In passing, an archer tossed Maeve a bow.

Ignoring her flimsy skirts, she strode to the edge of the coppice and took up stance.

The bow pointed toward the ground, and in one fluid motion, she curled her fingers around the curved wood, notched an arrow, and vertically raised the bow as she pulled her elbow back and the sting taut. The shaft of the arrow appeared to rest lightly on her cheek, the bowstring held by her pointed ear.

Standing erect, and arms horizontal to the ground, she looked like a woodland goddess, skirts afloat in the wind, moonlight highlighting her silhouette.

Drawing arm rigid, she ran a thumb over the edge of her fletching, and turned her head slightly to glance over her shoulder.

It was then I noticed Alec Changing behind her.

The rest of us barely had time to spread out before crimson cloaks broke the shadows.

Maeve s head whipped around. She let the arrow fly.

Lochlann and Conall drew their swords.

How did they get so close,

Lochlann demanded.

They rushed us faster than we expected,

Conall answered the ire in his tone and stance plain.

They seemed friendly at first but then &.

A lone rider on a white mare, crimson cloak billowing behind her broke from the shadows near the were-cats. She lifted her rifle, secured in the crook of her arm, and aimed for one of Kalcifer s wolf-brothers who was mid Change.

Amelia darted to one side and crouched down, limbs bunching together before she sprung up and bit the horse s neck forepaws clawing. Her hind legs strutted to keep her balanced.

Nimah launched herself at the Cleric, unsaddling her. They landed hard. Nimah tumbled over and twisted back up. Pouncing, her heavy forepaws held the Cleric down as she ripped her throat out.

Another wave of Clerics stampeded into the clearing. Their mounts flecked with white, exhausted.

A Cleric charged towards us and when Breandan called magics to him, the beast skidded to a stop, sensing the surge of power. The horse whinnied in fear and backed up, head thrashing. The Cleric yanked on the reins and the horse reared, hooves kicking.

Get back,

Breandan ordered.

Guard the path, they must not reach the heart of Wyld land.

Across the clearing, there was a flickering in the shadows. A tingle of the familiar buzzed over the surface of my skin, making the hairs on the back of my neck and arms stand on end. My fairy sight was keen enough to pierce the darkness through the trees, but there was a solid form there I could not see through.

I squinted and then it was gone.

Daphne misinterpreting my hesitation as defiance grabbed my arm and dragged me down the pathway towards the ClanTrees. She stopped when we were far enough to keep an eye on everything, but remain unseen.

Breandan and the animal danced around each other. The horse continued to give ground, head swinging from side to side madly before turning, revealing the Cleric s rifle trained on Breandan.

Two arrows pierced the Cleric s neck. He flew back passing over the horse s rump, and landed face first in the mud. He was trampled under his own steed. I shuddered when bones cracked and jutted within his skin at misshapen angles. The beast stormed off, reins flapping in the wind.

Maeve bow in hand streaked past. A Cleric followed her on foot, and she pivoted, sighted and loosed her arrow to take him down without breaking stride.

Breandan shouted at her, pointed away from the fight in a scolding get-your-ass-out-of-here manner then loped up the path after me.

Daphne, Breandan and I watched as chaos unfurled in the thicket below.

More Clerics burst into sight, some on mounts, some on foot. The crack of gunshots exploded in erratic bursts.

Lochlann barked orders to his Knights commanding them with bold gestures and guttural noises. The fairies followed the High Lord s instructions without question and spread out in formation. Dressed in the jointed armour that Breandan wore; bare-chested with swords, bows, and staves & they attacked.

Rae?

Breandan asked. I knew what he wanted to know, stay and fight or leave.

Samuel was convinced the Priests would consider an audience with Lochlann. They wouldn t order something stupid like this.

Chewing my lip, I glanced around the space. I waved my hands over the scene.

This isn t all of them.

The Knights? Our numbers are small, it has always been that way,

Breandan said. He jerked smoothly to the side as a wayward dagger flew past his head. Simultaneously, all of us took a few more steps back up the path.

We are a people of peace, Rae. A handful a generation is born with the ability to fight. Less with the ability to touch the Source and wield magics.

No, I meant Clerics. They re not all here, and if they were going to attack they d be smarter about it than this. They sure as hell wouldn t send in such a small number, it s suicide, and most Clerics are too selfish for that by nature. They re fighters, they wouldn t give up like this.

Does it matter? The human failed,

Daphne rasped.

He said he d talk to his Priests. How can you be sure this wasn t their decision? You should have let me compel them.

She fought her hunting instinct and was failing. She kept alternating between a loose crouch and a rigid straightness. A snarl twisted her face as she stared at a group of Clerics on foot attacking Lochlann.

I tugged on the edge of her tunic, and she tilted her head questioningly.

Go on. I m safe here.

With a brief nod she was gone in a burst of speed. She bolted out of the tree line and avoided any confrontations until she reached the other side of the clearing. She grabbed a human about to stab Lochlann, and yanked his head back, exposing his throat. She bit down. A spray of blood misted the air in a scarlet haze.

Something s not right.

Breandan muttered.

Samuel seemed sure they would be open to peace talks.

Clerics galloped up the path towards us, leaning low on their mounts for speed. One broke off, leaving the path to weave in and out of the trees.

Breandan lifted my hand and kissed my fingers before we separated. He ran forward to meet his opponent, and leaping off the path, he nimbly scaled a tree out of sight.

Moments later there was a vulgar shout.

I extended my wings, bent my knees to time it right, bouncing up and down in time with the Cleric.

The thundering of hooves was loud in my ears. The chestnut hot blood kicked up clumps of earth as she charged up the incline. The endurance and speed of the mare was captivating, as was the smoothness of her gait on this inapt terrain.

The Cleric pushed on, intending to run me down.

Seeing my time had come, I took two bounds, jumped and grabbed her shoulders. Screeching, the Cleric lifted off the saddle as planned, but one of her feet did not clear the stirrups. The horse ran on stride increasing as the reins loosened. Too much weight pulled me down. I had nothing to throw my strength against and was jerked back. I ended up sprawled on the Cleric, and on the terrified beast galloping beneath us. The saddle pommel jutted into my gut, jarring me with every stomp the horse took.

By gods, the shifters had made the manoeuvre look easier than it actually was.

With the reins trailing along the ground, the Cleric failed to control the beast with pressure from her knees.

Grunting, I struggled to pull myself into a seated position.

The Cleric managed to tug the leather straps back into her hands only to take a blow from a low hanging tree branch. The force of the impact was enough to dismount us, and jolt the mare into stopping. The Cleric reeled back and I sprawled across her lap was dragged along with her.

We landed in a tangle.

The Cleric mashed her palm into the side of my stomach to shove me off then rolled, keeping her head covered with her arms as protection from the horse s mad prancing. I wiggled left to right as the stomping hooves tried to crush my skull. The mare was beautiful, but bloody dangerous berserk from fear. Valuing my brain more than her hide, I summoned magics, and punched a fist of air into the beast s belly.

The horse tumbled back and landed with a dull thud. She rolled wildly, crushing the Lady Cleric to death, before clambering back up and sprinting off down the path trumpeting madly.

Groaning, I lurched up and took off back down the path.

A Lord Cleric charged towards me, bellowing in rage. I was startled at first, but soon found my stride, and met his attack head on. He slashed at me with his knife, and I avoided the lunge, bringing my leg up to land a kick on his jaw. Someone grabbed me from behind. I gripped the arm slung over my chest, bent and heaved. The Cleric flew over my shoulder and landed on his back. Twisting his arm, I kept hold of him, and dropped my knee to his chest to keep him down, but someone tackled me from the side. I rolled, punched that Cleric and stood, backing up as the three of them paced towards me.

Not liking the odds in this fight, sparks of magic pinged between my fingertips, and they paused.

Breandan dropped from above, and as I blinked, cleanly broke a Cleric s neck. He unsheathed his dagger and plunged it into the chest of another as he turned to deal with the last. This Lady Cleric wrenched a rifle from her hip holster, and Breandan kicked her hand to knock her arm up. The gun went off, and his shoulder jerked back.

Hissing, I smacked the Cleric in the throat with the side of my hand and swept her feet out under her.

She fell hard, but recovered swiftly as she was trained to do. Rolling backwards, she pushed up into her feet and crouched knife already in hand. Her head swivelled from side to side suspiciously. Throat bobbing as she struggled to swallow, her roaming eyes took in her dead comrades, and searched for an escape route. It was then I noticed the glassy look in her eyes, the blankness of her stare.

Suddenly, this attack made perfect sense if you looked at it for what it was.

Angry, I grabbed her head and yanked it down the same time as I brought my knee up. The two connected and she flew back knocked out cold.

Breandan came to stand beside me. I ran a hand over his shoulder, frowning. It was a shallow gash, and it healed under my fingertips. I smoothed a thumb over the lighter flesh, still deep in thought.

Cael,

I said quietly, preoccupied.

Just like before.

Breandan didn t question my logic. He d known something wasn t right about the attack.

Why? It seems pointless.

No,

I murmured.

Not pointless, clever. It looks like a bunch of suicidal humans just attacked a fairy Wyld, something I m guessing doesn t happen often.

Breandan stared down at me, a new respect lighting his eyes.

No. Not even during the Rupture were we attacked at the Wylds. No one would dare.

You and Conall keep telling me that we re secretive by nature. I get that, because most humans think fairies are either made up or extinct. Information about how you fight and how you defend your home would be invaluable.

Cael wants to understand how we react to an attack here,

he said slowly.

You think he s here?

I peered back down towards the clearing, thinking of the dark flicker I had seen in the shadows, the familiar rippling of power that had shimmied across my senses, teasing my memory.

Had the he-witch been watching?

We had the grimoire and the amulets. Two things Cael wanted. It made perfect sense for his attention to be focused on us here. Still, something didn t add up. Cael was flaunting himself and his power in my face. He d had an opportunity to kill me at Temple, and he hadn t taken it. He d left and thrown me a message in a language I didn t understand, but was easy enough to find someone to translate.

I will see you soon, sister.

The blood drained from my face.

Sister.

Everything fell away and I was left hanging in dead space. You d think the first time this happened to me with Conall, I would have been more prepared if it happened to me again.

My fingers touched my cheek then moved up to glide across my closed eyelid.

That day at Temple in the courtyard I had stood and stared right into his face and marvelled at how captivating and golden his eyes were.

Gold eyes.

Breandan s breathing deepened, sensing my distress. He placed a hand over the one I rested on his chest and entwined our fingers. Slowly, I looked at him. Our gazes clashed and the guilt he tried to conceal found me through the bond. I made a strangled noise of disbelief.

I could feel the constriction of blood vessels all over my body, my skin felt overly tight and dry. It contrasted horribly with my sweaty palms. I looked around with wide-eyes, expecting the sky to fall, or something equally drastic to happen to explain the feeling of devastation grinding my insides into pulp.

Cael gave me a message when I fought him,

I started to babble.

Feicfidh mé thú go luath, deirfiúr. After what happened with Tomas, meeting Samuel, and dealing with whatever the hell just happened at the Meet &.