Page 43 of Bane of the Wild Hunt

This retribution belonged to her alone.

So while we walked, I committed to memory each of the distinctive scents lingering on her bruised and abraded skin for when I returned with her to seek her justice.

She did not speak again, but I could hear her thin chest rattling with every laboured breath as I carried her up the steps to where I’d cut through the stone.

There were three witches, all of them male, standing at the opening of the shaft having a heated debate. I found them difficult to understand when they spoke so quickly.

“Behind me,” I ordered Carrick quietly, and he did as he was asked without question for once.

“I will take her—” he tried to offer.

“You there!” shouted one of the witches suddenly. “What do you think you are doing down here?”

I felt Nuala tense in my arms at the sound of their loud voices, so I brushed a soothing caress down her arm but did not slow my gait toward the witches.

“I have come for what is mine,” I replied, and they all stopped short as they realized I was not some member of their coven who was wandering where I shouldn’t.

“He’s got the girl!” one of them hissed, and three sets of hands ignited into flame.

“That is unwise,” I warned them, still coming swiftly closer to them. I wanted to kill all of them, but I would let Nuala decide who lived and died later.

“Stop! You cannot take her!” objected the youngest of the three males.

“I was not asking permission,” I growled, using a gust of Darragh’s wind magic to shove all of them out of my way so they slumped against the wall.

I would have walked by them, left them unmolested, except that one of their scents caught my attention.

I stopped, a flurry of rage rampaging through me as that offending smell assaulted my nostrils.

“It’s a fey,” I heard one of them whispering as I turned back in their direction. “It has to be him! She swore that he would come, and they would burn the coven—”

“Rian, not now,” insisted Carrick who would have also recognized the scent of one of Nuala’s assailants, but I could not seem to stop myself.

“Quiet! You snivelling little fools,” snarled the older of the three males as he shoved his way back to his feet and faced me. “You are not taking the little wench out of here. I do not know who you are, but that is Thomas Kelley’s mad little lass, and he will not take kindly to you—”

“Silence,” I interrupted him, making him blink as if in complete shock. I supposed he was not used to being spoken to in such a disrespectful manner by someone he probably perceived to be much younger than himself.

“You little snot-nosed—”

“I saidsilence,” I growled, my shadows spilling out of my pores and out of my armour to rush toward his feet.

The old man tried to step back with a rather undignified shriek, but the shadows seized his ankles and climbed quickly up his legs. He tried to use his fire magic, a feeble excuse for power which I easily stifled and drank down. My shadows flickered purple and convulsed as I drained his power until he collapsed to his knees gasping for air, devoid of his magic reserves.

“I told you it was him!” screamed one of the other two younger witches who huddled together against the wall. “It’s the Prince of Flame and Shadow like she said!”

Another nickname, although I rather liked this one.

“I have come for what is mine, and I do not require permission to take her. You are nothing, and your coven will soon be naught but ash and dust. I only allow you to live now so that Nuala maybe the one to unleash her fury upon you. Death is certain for all, but forsome,” I said, my eyes falling directly upon the male with short red hair who appeared the most terrified, “death will beslow.”

I turned again and strode up the tunnel with my uncle in tow and my new Seer in hand.

Chapter thirteen

THE FEAR OF DISAPPOINTMENT

Ornella

Despite the fact that Sage’s portal was bigger than the one Ciaran had made the night before, it still took most of the day for the village to cross through it. A dreadful urgency had besieged the aes sídhe while we were anticipating the Fuath to attack. But that chaotic desperation had been replaced by a deep sorrow after the battle, and it made them move even slower.

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