Page 82 of Void of Endings
“The sun no longer shines in the Spring Court.” Casimir’s tone was flat, lacking any real emotion, as though he knew there was nothing left for him there. Not even a fallen faerie princess. “The constant rain, mist, and generally abysmal weather will work in our favor.”
Brynn nodded, but worried her bottom lip anyway.
Something cold and wet brushed against Tiernan’s palm, and he glanced down to find Cahira, Maeve’sfaolanpup, staring up at him with crystal blue eyes. The wolfling whined, nuzzling against him once more.
“I know.” Tiernan hesitated, then reached down and ruffled a hand through Cahira’s soft, white fur. “I’ll bring her home.”
Cahira loosed a woeful howl, and Brynn crouched down to comfort the wolfling.
“When are you leaving?” Merrick asked.
Tiernan glanced over at Rowan and Casimir, then looked back at his hunter. “Now.”
Ceridwen’s teacup vanished, and she blew out a shuddering breath. Merrick absently reached for her hand, drawing her into his side.
“Merrick, keep your scouts vigilant. Protect the borders, and utilize the Furies…if you can find them.” Tiernan hadn’t seen either of them since Maeve was taken. “Brynn, you’re in charge of the archers and the entire legion until Lir returns to full health.”
“You make it sound like that might take longer than expected.” Ceridwen wrapped her free hand around Merrick’s wrist.
Tiernan nodded. “It might.”
“And if you’re not back by the time the druids of Wenfyre arrive?” she asked, worry clouding her twilight eyes. “What then? What do I tell Dorian and Ciara?”
It was the outcome he feared above all the rest.
He held his twin’s gaze as he said, “Carry on without us, and assume the worst.”
Brynn shoved to her feet and went to Ceridwen’s other side. Though she was smiling, her eyes were changing colors far too quickly—blue, to gold, to deep brown, and then red—a testamentto the emotions firing through her. “Fear not, my lady. He’s always this downhearted before the start of battle.”
Suddenly, Merrick straightened, morphing back into the role of esteemed warrior. The air was charged with energy, an understanding. He bowed stiffly. “Fair winds,moh Rí.”
Tiernan couldn’t bring himself to stay any longer, to look at them, to draw out the goodbye.
Without another word, Rowan dissolved into the shadows, Casimir shifted back into his drakon form, and Tiernanfadedaway to the Pass of Veils.
The outskirtsof the Pass of Veils had not changed.
Situated between the Spring and Summer Courts, the entrance was nestled at the base of the mountains, just along the outer edge of Summer’s most northern reaching forest. To the west was Spring, still covered with the veil of impenetrable magic Parisa had put in place. Just as the mural had shown Tiernan, there was a break in the shroud. A fissure. A weakness cutting directly through the mountain pass itself, which would hopefully allow them to enter the Spring Court undetected.
The Pass of Veils was eerily silent.
Despite being brought back to life with Maeve’s return to Faeven, it seemed no creatures had ventured here. There was no birdsong, no scurrying of animals, not even a whisper of the wind. Only a stoic kind of silence, as though the mountains and trees were watching, keeping their secrets of the land closely guarded.
Tiernan found his gaze drawn to a patch of earth not far from him, where the ground still looked fresh with overturned dirt.Where Maeve had buried a trooping fae alive with nothing more than a flick of her hand.
“What’s the plan, High King?”
He turned to see Casimir stalking out of the wooded forest, Rowan following in his wake with a trail of shadows behind him.
Tiernan addressed them both.
“Rowan will cast an illusion around us, so any who pass by will see nothing out of the ordinary. Just the drab façade of Suvarese.” He stole a hasty glance at the Nightweaver. “No offense.”
Rowan lifted both hands. “None taken.”
“And then?” Casimir asked, his dark gaze scanning the silent forest and the rugged mountains towering above them.
“Once we’re safely within the shroud, I’ll locate Maeve through the bond of witch thread.” Tiernan looked to the Pass of Veils, where the mist seemed to move and breathe of its own accord. “Though I have a feeling we already know where to find her.”
