Page 66 of The Fae Lord

And I keep holding her until we fall asleep.

TWENTY-EIGHT

Finn

Yarrow and I have been entrenched in our small hut on the outskirts of camp all day, plotting and planning. The excitement in the air is palpable. We allowed the Leafborne, Pen, to join us. I don’t like the guy, but he has spirit, and now that the Leafborne have decided they will fight with us, I figure we should at least make them feel involved.

“Garratt says the elves have been putting out word through the city,” I tell them, leaning back against the stack of grain sacks behind me.

Now that I’m making regular journeys into the city, confident I won’t be seen, I’ve been bringing back supplies which is keeping everyone fuller and happier.

Yarrow yawns loudly, lighting a cigarette. It is full of dandelion weed, which smells terrible but puts him in a good mood. He crosses his ankles and leans back opposite me. Pen is the only one standing. He’s looking at our makeshift table and the maps that we have spread out of the city and the citadel.

“We need to agree on a day and a signal. The Shadowkind who are working for the Sunborne in the city will watch for the signal, maybe smoke,” I say thoughtfully, watching as Yarrow puffs on his cigarette. “When they see it, they’ll join us to fight.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to take down Eldrion first?” Pen says, tapping the castle on the map. “Take him down, take control of the castle, then deal with the other Sunborne when we have a fortress.”

Yarrow looks at me and quirks his eyebrows. “The kid’s not wrong,” he says, even though I think Pen may be older than Yarrow; the Leafborne age a little more gracefully than we do.

I bite my lip. “My plan was for the Shadowkind to start fighting back against the Sunborne while we take the citadel, but perhaps Pen is right. Yes,” I say slowly, “we’ll do it while they’re sleeping. We’ll take Eldrion in the castle. The Sunborne will know nothing about it.”

“And you’re still relying on your girlfriend as our star player?” Yarrow asks, offering Pen a rolled-up cigarette. Pen hesitates, then accepts it, probably because he thinks it’s polite. When he lights it and takes a puff, he winces a little but then carries on.

His wings are orange, which means fire magic.

“You saw what she did in the tunnels,” I tell him. “She’s powerful.”

“We’re all powerful,” Pen says. He’s leaning back against the table now, the dandelion weed taking effect already, and he looks more relaxed. “I can give you numbers if you like – who has which elemental magic, how many of us there are. And you know,” he says, “why stop with us? Why not send word to the outer villages? We aren’t the only ones the Gloomweavers have raided over the past couple of years while Eldrion turned a blind eye. The Mountainborne, the Waterweavers – they’d come and help, I’m sure. It means being a little more organised.” He says this last bit pointedly, looking at me.

I’m teetering on the edge of being annoyed, but then decide to laugh instead and shake my head at him.

“You’re right,” I say. “I’m not a born leader. I’m not smart. I’ve never made plans like this before. I’m just doing what I think is right for my people.”

Pen’s expression softens. “Well, lucky for you, part of our schooling includes stuff like this.”

“It includes how to take over the capital city of the kingdom?” Yarrow says sarcastically.

“No,” Pen says. “It involves studying battles, manoeuvres. Not all of us study it, of course, but I chose to do that instead of questing.”

“Questing?” Yarrow asks with a withering stare.

Pen stands a little straighter, his expression becoming firmer. “At one hundred and fifty years old, each Leafborne fae has a choice – they quest, which means going away for a year –”

“On a quest,” Yarrow finishes, narrowing his eyes with a hint of humour in his voice.

Pen laughs, but it’s tinged with annoyance. “Exactly,” he says. “Or studying more, choosing something to research, become an expert in.”

“And you’re an expert in battle?” I ask.

“Yes,” Pen says. “It was two hundred years ago that I studied, but I remember most of it.”

I stand up and clap him on the shoulder. “Then I am very glad you’re here,” I tell him. “Let’s talk more about this idea – first, getting the other fae involved in the city. How will this work exactly?”

We talk until the sun has disappeared and the forest is cloaked in darkness. I know Alana will be wondering where I am, and fretting about it. Since I revealed the extent of my ambitions, she’s been watching me closely. Like she’s worried I will go off and leap into battle without her.

If she’s worried about her role in the fight, she has not showed it. She has showed only steely determination.

Pride blooms in my chest as I think of her.

---