Page 52 of Bane of the Wild Hunt

“Same with you about Orlaith,” I replied, and he gave another laugh as he nodded.

“Alright, deal,” he agreed.

We were really starting to lose the light, but I could now recognize the forest beneath us as the vivid autumn colours from the southern Suridin Valley. We were getting close to the Aes Suri village, and I still did not see any more smoke or the unnatural cloud of darkness the Fuath mage had used to protect their vile army from the sun. That boded well for our hopes of finding the village, and more importantly the tablets, unmolested.

We began to descend quickly, and at first I was unsure why we were getting so low until I saw Ciaran collecting shadows from the forest to cloak himself and his vargr. Within seconds, they had both disappeared.

“What if we fly into one another?” I asked in alarm as Sage began to gather shadows to hide us as well.

“I can still sense Ciaran down the bond, and Pyrope will be able to sense you. She will stay out of our way,” Sage assured me as I glanced back in time to see the red vargr fade from my sight. “We need to be quiet now.”

I nodded in understanding and reached down to grip the pommel of the saddle beneath me readily as the tree canopy thinned around the village below.

I stared in astonishment, cautiously relieved as we passed over the rows of untouched yurts that seemed so eerily silent. I couldstill see the remnants of the battle that had been waged there the night before, but it did not seem as if the Fuath had taken the opportunity to pillage. Perhaps the plumes of smoke we’d seen that morning had come from somewhere else, and Rian really had scared away the Fuath before they could do more damage.

For the first time, I wished I could speak directly into Sage’s mind the way the other riders could communicate to know what he was thinking.

We flew over the village and all the way to the training field before landing. I assumed we’d be moving in slowly to assess the situation under the cover of shadow.

But the second my feet hit the ground, I knew that something was not right…

Chapter fifteen

THE LIMITS OF MAGIC

Ornella

“There is… a ward,” I choked out a warning as my entire body seized in revulsion from the assault of the unnatural Fuath magic upon my senses.

Sage grabbed me, preparing to lift me right back into the saddle, but several arrows hit the dirt around our feet a split second before one sunk into Serafin’s side.

The vargr gave a startled yelp of pain and turned as if to nip at what had hurt him, but Sage grabbed his head to make him be still. I heard Ciaran also utter a snarl of pain from somewhere nearby, and I knew the other rider or his vargr had probably been hit as well.

Sage’s Wild Hunt armour made from thorn and bone appeared on his body as if it was second nature for him to summon it in battle. I gasped without meaning to, but the only time I’d seen him wear it since the day I had been captured was the battle last night. And he’d removed that deeply unnerving skull helmet before he reached me in the village. An expressionless mask with black, hollow eye sockets and unfeeling bone etched with thorny vines. The cloak had comewith it, and the hood was drawn up over his head, but it could not hide the breastplate that looked like a deformed rib cage.

I knew it was Sage, but I still trembled. I was sure the helmets possessed some kind of old magic that made me feel immense dread. Cold and death radiated from him.

“Sage—”

“Quiet!” he insisted lowly. Even his voice was warped slightly from the smooth, deep timbre that I knew so well into a harsher rasp by the helmet.

I remembered that the Fuath could not actually see us. They had merely fired arrows in our direction after… After they heardmyvoicewarn Sage about the ward.

My heart sinking in guilt, I nodded in understanding, and Sage released Serafin with an apologetic stroke over the vargr’s head. The rider stepped slowly and silently in front of us, blocking me from more arrows as his eyes searched the trees for our attackers. His bow had appeared in his hands with an arrow already notched and ready.

Ignoring the repulsive taste of the Fuath magic, and the distress of the forest around us, I sent my mind down into the earth through the roots of the trees. It was harder to orient myself so close to the noxious ward as if my senses were dulled by strong ale. After a moment, I managed to find the Fuath crouching in the tall grass near the river. Using the roots nearest to grab them, I quickly wrapped the plant limbs around their throats before they could scream and strangled them.

“Dead,” I whispered to Sage who gave a single nod before he turned to look at Serafin crouching with his lips lifted in a silent snarl of pain. He touched the vargr gently, running his hand down Serafin’s flank until he reached the arrow. Serafin growled, but Sage took hold of the arrow and turned his skull-faced helm toward me.

Even the way he moved changed. He was a proficient warrior who was always graceful and powerful, but now his movements seemed preternatural and eerie.

Once I nodded that I was ready, he pulled the arrow out of Serafin’s flank. The vargr yelped in pain, but I was right there to heal him immediately.

“You said there is another ward?” Sage verified quietly while he stroked Serafin’s head with soothing hands.

“Yes, a concealment,” I answered, still keeping my voice low despite the fact that I could not sense any more of the Fuath near. “I’m sorry—”

“It’s alright, Summer, you are not connected to us the way you should be to communicate,” Sage interrupted.

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