Page 165 of Cathmoir's Sons

CAILEÁN

The Holly King is not pleased to be woken at two-thirty in the morning. However, he stops complaining when I tell him about calling down the moon. And the moon answering.

I leave him and his knight to dress and go to find my consorts. I did manage a few hours of sleep, sandwiched between Law and Rhodes. Law rose about an hour ago and dragged Luca, protesting sleepily, with him. Rhodes snuggled me back to sleep and I didn’t realize until I woke again that the Cait hadn’t returned.

I find all three of them on the brick patio overlooking the garden. Didrane is still in her tree. But now she looks down over rank after rank of silent Cait who stretch all the way back to the Trophy House where Law and I had our first date.

When I step through the doors, Law turns to face me. He’s still barefoot and bare-chested, wearing just his leather pants. Despite him claiming not to be a schoolboy anymore, he looks so young, his high cheekbones and smooth chest silvered by moonlight. My heart seizes for a moment at the idea of leadinghim and his brother and Rhodes—to say nothing of his people—into a conflict with the oldest living fae.

He tucks one hand behind his back and bows very formally to me. “My queen. The Cait stand ready.”

“Law—” A tear rolls cold down my cheek.

Kathu stalks along the edge of the assembled Cait, with her three wolves in tight formation around her. “My wolves are here, too,” she says as she steps up onto the patio. “I don’t dare bring them too close to your cats, so we’ll follow you.”

I force a smile for her. “Thank you, sister.”

Luca moves to my side and takes my hand. Rhodes slips in behind me, his arms circling my waist.

“Call the souls of the Cait. It’s time, Caileán,” Luca murmurs.

I nod, fill my lungs with cold, night Air, and reach. I’m prepared to rip open the Veil and step into Ceòfuar to retrieve the sleeping souls. But I don’t need to. I carry Faery within me. As soon as I reach for them, they rise, billowing out of me like black mist. Filling in the ranks of Cait with their ancient spears, glinting armor, and gleaming eyes.

I look over them carefully. Several are in their warrior forms, so it’s hard to tell, but I don’t feel drawn to any of the wraiths. No, my consorts’ souls are not among them. Either they’ve moved on, or they’ve merged into the men standing around me. I reach out to Law. He immediately steps into me, tucking my arm around his waist.

“Lead us, my queen. We’re yours to command.”

Tears threaten again. My army. I never expected to have one person stand beside me, much less an army. I objected to Law summoning the living Cait, but I see now that I was wrong. Having them here, ready to follow us into the fray, means so much to me in this moment. I fumble for Law’s hand and when I grasp it, raise our joined hands over my head. Together, we look out over the assembled Cait.

“It’s time for the Oak King to answer for his crimes against the Cait,” I say, my voice ringing out into the cold night. “I march on Ivywhile to call down the Mother’s Justice on the high fae. Who is with me?”

Hundreds of heads tip back. From hundreds of throats rise the Cait’s roar. The howling of Kathu’s wolves echoes from the distance.

Out of the corners of my eyes, I see wild fae appearing out of the night mist. White-antlered, black faceddynion ceirw; thorny tree nymphs; dripping river nymphs; hundreds of bwg, their caps dyed red; my distant cousins, the cyhraeth, their shrouds gathered tightly around their skeletal frames; thousands of will o’ wisps, swirling in their dizzying dances. They raise their faces to the night sky. Their throats vibrate with their cries, barely heard over the roar of the Cait and the howl of wolves but felt: a thunder that shakes the ground under my feet, which makes the Veil tremble.

I pull their cries into my Element, wrap the sound into a knelling bell, and store it in my chest. It will be the last thing the Oak King hears.

As the wild host’s call fade into the night breeze, I look around for the Holly King. He’s standing with Hraena, who is holding hands with Klaya Blackmaben. I smile at my sister and nod at the Holly King.

The Holly King steps back and puts his mailed hand against the wall of Cait House. His namesake rustles up the wall in an explosion of vines and unfurling leaves. The holly creates a huge circle on the wall, wide enough for a half-dozen to walk abreast, framing a black, shimmering space.

Holding tight to my consorts, I walk toward the portal.

“You’ll step out straight into the Oak King’s grove, Caileán,” the Holly King says. “So be ready.”

I nod at him and step through.

The Oak King is not alone. His druadh ring him like burnt tree stumps. They’re all slumped over. Two are snoring. Do they stay with him even in their sleep? That seems unhealthy. Or perhaps they’re exhausted after some ritual. Maybe they called the moon tonight, too. I wonder, did She answer?

I squeeze Law and Luca’s hands, my palms slick with the fear that I’ve brought them to their deaths.

In whispers, of breath, of feathers, of fur, my army files through the portal behind me. Didrane alights on Luca’s shoulder. Hraena and her Storm Lady take position beside Law. Brangwy’s boar snuffles the jewel-bright grass at our feet. Kathu and her wolves pad into silent ranks to my left, as far away from the Cait on my right as they can.

I don’t expect Aranthann and Aehelwen to follow us through, but they do. With a few muttered “pardons” they edge to the front of the crowd. I look expectantly at the Holly King, but he bows his head to me as if to say, “this is your show.”

I give him a quick smile before I step forward. “Gwyn ap Nudd. Oath-breaker and kin-slayer. Wake and face the Mother’s Justice.”

The leaves and branches of the oak grove flutter as though a storm wind had ripped through them. Ten pairs of black eyes blink open. The druadh stagger to their feet, shaking out their robes. Beneath one, I see a crumpled form, her tattered winding sheets torn to expose too much skin, a small, pale face with her mouth stretched open in a final scream no one heeded. A cyhraeth the Oak King killed instead of me. Another bean sidhe no one cared enough to protect.

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