Page 54 of The Shadowbound and the False God

“Just a little further,” she begged when Kael stumbled over an exposed root. His feet were leaden and so, so difficult to lift. It didn’t matter; he would have done anything she asked of him. So he kept moving.

Two figures were waiting on the trail just ahead. Kael squinted to make out their faces through his doubled vision. Raif, his expression grim and drawn, and another faerie with tall, twitching ears and a worn leather jacket. By the way his worried expression melted into sheer relief at the sight of Aisling being towed behind the centaur, Kael knew it was Rodney.

They approached quickly as Fenian shook his tail loose from Aisling’s grasp. Raif sheathed his sword and ducked down,coming up beneath Kael’s arm and shouldering more than half his weight. Rodney—or whatever he was meant to be called in this form—ignored him entirely.

“Jesus, Ash,” he breathed. Wide-eyed, he scanned her torn sweater, the runes inked on her bare stomach. The rest of her, too: she looked disheveled. Exhausted. Haunted. Kael hadn’t noticed before the way her fingertips were stained crimson. Rodney shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over Aisling’s shoulders. When she tugged it around herself gratefully, Kael ground his teeth. He should have thought to give her his cloak; it would have seemed an empty, jealous gesture for him to do so now.

“We need to go,” Fenian said, unmoved by the group’s reunion.

Raif looked pointedly at Rodney, who nodded and beckoned to them.

“Get in closer. I don’t know if this is going to work, but—”

“Just do it, Weaver,” Raif growled. Kael sucked in a sharp breath as his friend shifted him closer to the others.

Weaver.The púca was a Weaver. Kael had to bite back a surprised laugh. It would only stand to reason that the most unassuming member of their group would turn out to possess the most powerful magic—behind Kael’s own, of course. He wondered what else had been uncovered since he’d been gone.

Rodney moved to the center of the group and lifted his hands, palms up. What little sound there was in the forest hushed when he closed his eyes, heavy brow furrowing in concentration. Against his sensitive skin, Kael felt the magic shift. It was thick here, almost solid once it started to move. There was an edge of resistance that Kael could sense in the vibrations, and he could see the challenge of it written plainly on Rodney’s face. It was as though the magic was keen to show off just how savageand untamed it had become here in Elowas: like a wild mare, bucking before it was broken.

I will find you, King,the Low One hissed.You are mine; your shadows belong to me.Kael squeezed his eyes shut, pushing back against that voice in a way he never had before. He used his anger, his pain. Thoughts of Aisling: memories of her smile, of the warm waves of calm she washed over him. It quieted those cruel whispers, and the god’s words were dampened further as Rodney finally let a heavy blanket of magic settle over them.

“Holy shit,” Rodney murmured. He reached out one hand, letting long fingers play against the mantle he’d Created. “I can’t believe that worked.”

“A glamour?” Aisling guessed. She looked around like she hoped to catch a glimpse of the magic that lay over them. But it was almost seamless; if Kael hadn’t felt it fall into place, he might not have known it was there, either.

“Celebrate your success later, púca. This illusion might protect us from the god’s Sight for a time, but it won’t hide us for long. He’ll feel its frayed edges,” Fenian said gruffly.

The group moved slowly, steadily, staying close together beneath Rodney’s glamour. Despite Raif half-carrying Kael, the effort was immense. Not one of them spoke besides the occasional direction from Fenian or Raif. Both seemed to have a destination in mind, though neither acknowledged as much.

Their path ended at a great chambered cairn, encircled by a perimeter of young rowan trees. A towering, blackened oak grew from its center. And guarding the space, poised with a small blade and a fierce expression, a winged alseid awaited their party’s arrival. All five of them sucked in a deep breath of fresh air once Rodney let the glamour dissipate. Kael winced when the threads chafed against his raw skin as they withdrew.

“I see you’ve found your king,” the alseid acknowledged, eyeing Kael warily.

“You would still grant us sanctuary, Sudryl?” Raif asked as though he knew the tiny faerie. He’d been here already, Kael guessed, to secure safe haven before moving into battle. A true soldier.

“This is not right.” Her appraising glare remained on Kael even as she lowered her blade slightly. She looked then to the forest behind them and the furrow between her brows deepened.“Heis not right. Where did you find him?”

“It hardly matters where.”

“It matters.” The small faerie’s tone was harsh. Kael considered what he might do should she refuse them. She’d take in Aisling—he’d make her take in Aisling, even if she were the only one.

“We took him from the sylvan cathedral.” Sudryl’s verdant skin paled at Fenian’s declaration.

“You’ve stolen something from the dark god,” she warned. “He will not part with his possession so easily.”

Kael stiffened, but he hadn’t the energy to argue. She was likely right.

Raif stepped forward. “We had a bargain. I told you why we came here.”

“I did not think you would be successful.” Sudryl shifted, her gaze beginning to flit nervously between the darkening woods and the perimeter that stood between them. Kael could still feel the Low One hiding in that darkness, watching. Waiting.

“Please,”Raif insisted.

“You recall your promise?” she demanded.

“Vividly. Orist will be healed yet.” The soldier released his hold on Kael’s wrist to move his hand to his heart, a solemn vow.

Sudryl nodded finally and stepped aside for them to cross into the circle of rowan trees. “Do not disturb the trees, and do not topple the stones. You must leave the Enclave exactly as you found it.”

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