Page 90 of The Red Woman and the White Bear

Kael raised an eyebrow, surprising even himself when he conceded, “The púca makes a decent point.”

“I liked it better when you two weren’t getting along,” Aisling muttered. Kael chuckled at this, and with one last gentle squeeze of her hand, he let Lyre take her arm and lead her off down the passageway. He watched until she disappeared around a corner, then turned back to Raif and Rodney.

“You have a weapon?” he asked Rodney. His bright hair flopped when he nodded yes, and he patted a thin sword that hung from his belt. It was undoubtedly one of Raif’s, and likely little more than a travel blade, but its size suited the púca’s slender frame.

The three males walked quickly in the opposite direction from where Aisling and Lyre had gone. Rodney strayed ahead, but Raif remained in lockstep alongside Kael to update him on each company’s position and readiness.

“I changed the positions of the First and Second Companies—there was a gap in the frontline, larger than it seemed on the board. And close to fifty additional foot soldiers arrived in the night from the western villages in Veladryn,” Raif said.

Kael’s jaw tightened. He would be foolish to deny his army the additional numbers, but these volunteers were untrained and would be underprepared for a battle of this magnitude. He thought of the Solitary Fae conscripted by the Seelie army, how they were sent to the Nyctara front with shoddy weapons and ill-fitting armor. Therelative ease with which he and his Unseelie warriors had felled every one of them.

“Position them in the far rear,” he commanded tersely. “Their first directive should be to protect the Undercastle unless needed at the front.”

“Highness?” Methild called after him, scurrying to catch up from the far end of the corridor where she had likely been on her way to Kael’s chamber.

He stopped to wait for her, then said to Rodney and Raif, “Go ahead.”

“I’ve not yet polished your boots or your sword,” Methild rasped, breathless by the time she made it to stand in front of Kael. She examined at his feet, dismayed by several faint scuffmarks on the metal.

He shook his head. “That will not be necessary.”

“It will take no time at all,” she argued. Kael regarded her for a moment. Stooped with age now, she stood only waist high beside him, but she was no less strong than she’d been when he was first brought to the Undercastle and she’d sworn her service to him.

He realized that he’d never once thanked her—it had never even occurred to him to do so. The old hob, who’d served him since he was learning to serve the Prelates and the Low One, had been steadfast in her duties. She’d borne the brunt of his cruelty time and again, and yet had cared for him at his weakest. Had brought him gifts when he was small to soothe his temper, and had continued to do so even now. He thought of the jar with the Luna moth that she’d quietly left for him before Nocturne, knowing thedark place his fear of failure could send him to. She was kind when he hadn’t deserved it.

Kael knelt before her and took one of her wizened hands in his. “Thank you, Methild.”

“I—” she squeaked, eyes wide with surprise, then cleared her throat. “It is my honor, Your Highness.”

Kael rose to his feet. “Gather the other workers and go deeper. The Undercastle will keep you safe.” It was true—even if Seelie soldiers managed to gain entry, the labyrinthine tunnels would brook no intrusion much further than the throne room. The twisting, winding passageways would sooner lead the soldiers to madness than to the stronghold of the structure’s heart.

“She’ll see us here?” Rodney gazed down from the crest of the knoll, eyes scanning the tree line. He sat astride a dappled mare and toyed with the reins. Ahead, every tall pine shivered with the thunderous footfall of the advancing Seelie forces. Kael settled his weight into Furax’s saddle and watched as Raif rode up and down the frontline, making final adjustments to positions and speaking directly with each company commander. As much as Kael wished he was doing the same, he had a greater purpose now. Raif was a fine commander; Kael had no doubt he would lead the Unseelie army with the same unwavering ferocity that Kael would have himself.

“I will be the first target she seeks out,” Kael assured Rodney. Only moments after he’d spoken those words, the first Seeliewarriors appeared from the verdant darkness of the forest. Their pale golden armor glimmered in the waning moonlight as they approached with the dawn. A low horn sounded then, a call to arms, and the Unseelie warriors drove forward in full force. Kael’s hand rose instinctively to the pommel of his longsword and his shadows surged, but he remained still, searching.

Until he found his mark.

Laure entered the battlefield on foot, shoulders back, chin high. Her raven hair billowed out behind her. It cast nearly as stark of a contrast against her golden chainmail as Kael’s pale hair did against his black armor. His ribs felt as though they might crack under the growing, insistent pressure of his magic, so he let several tendrils reach from his fingertips. They stretched lazily toward the sounds of battle, only as far as he allowed. They came alive when the first drops of blood were spilled from the stomach of a Solitary pixie that was struck mid-flight by an arrow. She dropped heavily down into the growing fray below.

The next body to fall was an Unseelie warrior, one of Garrick’s, from the Fourth Company. It was a swift death, but brutal all the same. The weight of Kael’s responsibilities as King—responsibilities that had for so long been overshadowed by his greed and lust for power—bore down on him then, a crushing burden. A torrent of thoughts cascaded through his mind. Fear clawed at him, threatening to strip away the façade of composure he so carefully maintained, eating away at the confidence he’d felt only moments before.

It was the sensation of his magic writhing beneath his skin that brought him back from those thoughts. They could feelher, too, his shadows. They could feel the Seelie Queen’s magic, the purest form of creation which she used now to strangle and destroy. Her vines crept forward through her ranks. Her warriors danced around the snaking plants as they reached up, savagely tearing at Kael’s soldiers. They struck at the vines with their blades, but no sooner had they severed one than three more grew back in its place.

But Laure’s focus wasn’t on battle formations or the advancing line; her violet eyes darted back and forth, searching just as Kael had. The fury burning behind them was palpable, and her magic was stronger for it. Niamh remained close by her side, lips pulled back in a vicious snarl.

Before he’d left Raif to ride out with Rodney, Kael had firmly grasped his captain’s arm, and Raif had responded in kind. Kael ordered Raif to take Niamh, but no further words were exchanged between the two males. No further words were needed. They were as close as brothers—while Raif didn’t know the extent of the plan, he’d surely guessed by now.

“There,” Rodney pointed towards Raif, who was now plunging through the clashing soldiers, aiming his warhorse straight for Niamh. She’d noticed him, too, and held her longsword at the ready. Kael drove a heel into Furax’s flank and she reared, letting out a sharp bray that echoed across the field and found Laure’s keen ears. She turned her attention towards Kael and Rodney and broke into a run in their direction. Distracted now, Niamh paid no attention to her queen’s flight. By the time she would turn to look, Laure would be lost amidst the swords and spears and shots of magic.

Kael and Rodney both pulled their mounts into a swift gallop, first head-on towards Laure before veering off for the tree line. Laure let out a scream as she ran, a guttural war cry. Kael pulled Furax to slow, allowing Rodney the distance to disappear into the forest ahead of him. He would dismount there and continue on foot to join Aisling and Lyre in The Cut, with Kael and Laure just behind.

Kael could hear Laure’s vines whispering, curling, reaching for him. His shadows reached back, withering those that drew too close. They were quick, though—a vine as thick as his arm caught one of Furax’s hooves and sent the mare careening. Kael reacted reflexively, working his boots from the stirrups before the creature hit the ground. He rolled away from Furax as she struggled back to her feet and used that forward momentum to propel himself into a run.

Laure was still behind him; she roared again when he recovered without faltering. The distance between them was closing rapidly, and when Kael raced into the forest, Laure ran in after him without hesitation. So blinded by her own rage that she could think of nothing but running down the Unseelie King who had slaughtered first her subjects, then her favorite toy.

She was singularly focused; now, Kael knew, she would follow him anywhere.

It had been cold as Aisling worked with Rodney and Lyre to prepare The Cut the previous evening. Her numb fingers could scarcely grip the sharp instrument Lyre handed her to etch markings into the frozen dirt before the altar. He crouched beside her, pointing to each empty space and describing the rune she should carve there. Rodney moved ahead of them, clearing snow from the circle with a branch of pine needles he swept back and forth like a broom.

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