Page 42 of The Lord of the Labyrinth

“No,” Roan growled as he clenched Kyma’s fingers tighter.

His magic burned within his chest, that light and healing energy pushing outward. “You must fight. You must survive. Without you, the forest is truly lost.” How could she not know what she meant to his realm? That her light, her beauty, herspiritwere worth fighting for? If she lived, the trees could grow again, the forest could thrive, but without her... the land would remain nothing but the ashes of trees and the bones of her sisters.

Roan held her hand as he softened his tone. “You’re my friend, and I will not surrender you to death.”

Kyma’s eyes widened. She was seeing the shine he so rarely let others see as his power grew alongside his strong emotions. She gasped and the strength in her grip deepened as she drew in a strong breath. Roan pushed more of his magic into the dryad’s body until he was sure she was out of danger.

Kyma’s lips twitched as though she wanted to smile but was still too weak. “You wouldn’t let me die.”

He brushed his thumb soothingly over her fingertips. “No, my lady. Your king commands you to live on and to one day regrow your beautiful forest.”

“Then I will do my best, Lord Arun,” Kyma sighed, the sound like the wind passing gently through the foliage of her forest.

It took Roan a moment to catch his breath after having used up so much of his power to save her. He would regain his strength soon enough once the moon rose.

He called for his trusted guard. “Hagni!”

“My lord.” Hagni, who had stepped back to give Roan and Lady Kyma their space, now rejoined him, his face grave.

“We must take her directly to Andvari. He will be able to keep her close to the dark woods so that she may heal.” Roan looked at the burned woods and what was left of her forest. Perhaps with time Kyma would find a way to grow great trees once more and rebuild the forest. And if trees grew... then new dryads would be born, and she would no longer be alone. He would do all that he could to help her.

“Yes, my lord.”

Hagni came to Kyma’s side and crouched down by her. “May I carry you, my lady?” he asked.

Kyma managed a nod, and Hagni raised her up in his arms. Roan pulled his sword from the soil as he stood, weary from his efforts. At last he turned to face the destruction, his heart shattering at the loss of such innocence.

Roan then turned his gaze toward the Seelie lands.

“Culan,” he whispered into the wind. “You burned my beautiful dark woods. You murdered the dryads who cared for them. You will pay for your crimes,cousin.”

His cousin’s hunger for power, his jealous desire to destroy whatever he could not possess, was so unlike the other Seelie. Yes, the Seelie and Unseelie spent much time fighting, but even Roan had to admit that the Morning Court Fae were not without honor and decency. Most of them, anyway.

The Fae, while they lusted for pleasures and beauty, had far less obsession with destruction and power. That was a human trait. Culan, however, was almosthumanin his greed. He was far too much like Roan’s father, Bahden, a king obsessed with power and territory. He had dreamed of ruling the humans by possessing their queen, Guinevere. Thankfully, he’d been stopped, but only the Unseelie had been punished for Bahden’s greed. Now it seemed the Seelie were at the mercy of Culan, and they were likely unprepared to deal with the consequences of the war he was about to start. Roan swallowed a snarl of rage, knowing that his lands and his creatures would suffer because of his foolish cousin.

He and Hagni made the journey on foot into the Black Hills, flanked by the Shadow Guards. In time, they arrived at the entrance to Vol Buldohr, the underground palace of the dwarves. While they could have traveled by the Fae roads, it was considered rude to appear without warning upon the dwarves’ doorstep. The obsidian entrance to Vol Buldohr was heavily guarded, but when the dwarves realized who approached, they rushed to open the tall gates to allow them entrance.

A male dwarf in golden robes greeted them. “Greetings, Lord Arun.” He bore the mark of the royal dwarvish advisor to Lord Andvari, the king of the dwarves.

“Tell Lord Andvari I must speak with him at once. We have a guest in need of sanctuary.”

“Of course. Follow me.” The bearded dwarf rushed down the long hall, his golden robes flowing behind him. The court of the dwarves was far quieter and emptier than the Twilight Court. Dwarves, by nature, preferred to busy themselves with the making and keeping of their treasures and did not care for political intrigue as theSidhedid.

No one dared to challenge Roan in his own court. He was the strongest of the Fae, and his bloodline had ruled upon the Unseelie throne for several thousand years.

The vizier led them to the throne room, where a broad-shouldered, muscular dwarf sat upon a white marble throne. Unlike many of the dwarves around him, who wore the court robes of Vol Buldohr, he wore a tunic with a silver belt around his waist that bore the hilt of a broadsword. Several others were gathered around him, speaking in hushed tones. Many carried battle-axes and were likely the dwarf soldiers that most often conducted patrols. Roan wagered that Andvari had just learned of the attack on the dark woods.

The advisor pushed between the soldiers and spoke to the dwarf on the throne. Darric Andvari, the king of the Black Hills, swept his light-brown eyes over the room until he spotted Roan. Andvari’s dark hair, streaked with gray, was pulled back at the base of his neck, and a smattering of gold beads threaded his beard.

The dwarf bowed his head. “Lord Arun. I understand you are here bearing grave tidings, old friend.”

Roan nodded. “Lord Andvari. I see you’ve just been told of the attack on the dark woods.”

“Yes, we heard of the attack too late to assist them.” Andvari’s eyes were bright with a rage that came from the dwarves’ innate dislike of injustice. They were a people who placed value on rules and order. They had always adhered to the treaties between the Seelie and the Unseelie, and the attack on the dryads would be seen as a declaration of war.

Andvari’s gaze then strayed past Roan to the dryad Hagni held in his arms.

“Lady Kyma!” Andvari gasped and rushed past Roan to the dryad. “I did not know you survived!”

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