Page 87 of The Queen and the Half-blood
She hoped he was right—that it would be enough. Unfortunately, she hadn’t been able to come up with anything better.
Her husband wasn’t with her now though. He’d ridden ahead to join his wulvers in the advance guard for most of the dayand hadn’t returned yet. She wouldn’t be getting any last-minute advice from him, not that she wanted it.
Resolve tightened her belly as she neared the royal pavilion. Ready or not, some things had to be faced alone.
Ducking into her tent, she found Florie and the twins busy unpacking items. “Leave, please,” she ordered. All three lasses startled. Heads bowed, they fled from the pavilion.
As soon as she was alone, Lara went to the satchel next to her furs and withdrew a black cloak. It was one of Alar’s, voluminous with a deep cowl. It smelled of him too: leather and oak, with a hint of mint.
Trying not to let the scent distract her, she threw on the cloak. She then dug into the satchel once more and pulled out a leather mask. Her husband had made it for her the night before, cutting up a pair of leather breeches. It had holes for her eyes, nose, and mouth, although when she’d tried it on, she’d wanted to rip it off straight away. It clung to her skin, smothering her like a clammy hand over her face.
She wouldn’t don the mask yet though.
Tucking it under her cloak, she ducked out of the pavilion. Bree was waiting for her. The two women shared a nod before they set off, hurrying toward the perimeter of the camp.
And as they wove through the press of tents, stepping over guide ropes and iron stakes, the shrieks of the approaching Slew cut through the air.
Her palms grew damp. Anxiety now pitched in her gut, although she managed to tamp down the tendrils of panic that wreathed up like smoke. Losing her nerve wouldn’t help.
She had to keep her mind focused. Clear.
Drawing near to the western edge of the encampment, where a line of bards had begun a protection sain, she and Bree ducked into the shadow of one of the tents. There, she quickly put on hermask. Moving behind Lara, Bree secured it with ties around the back of her head.
And when her warder had finished tying the last knot, Lara pulled up her hood. Her heart was beating fast now, sweat damp upon her skin. Alar had assured her the disguise was unsettling. She hoped he was right.
“Stay here,” she warned Bree. “It’s best you keep out of sight.”
“Be careful,” her friend replied, her voice tight. “Don’t let any of the druids get too close … especially enforcers.”
Lara nodded, even as her stomach pitched. Surely, once they saw what she was doing, they’d all realize she was a friend rather than a foe? However, she couldn’t worry about that now.
Once she emerged from her hiding place, she needed to be confident. No matter what happened, she had to hold her ground, to focus on driving out the Slew.
Jaw set and shoulders squared, she stepped out from behind the tent.
Just in time too, for the first of the wraiths were diving—dark, winged shapes that swooped down from the sky like massive buzzards.
The pungent, familiar smell of earth magic filled her nostrils—pine and campfire—as the bards’ singing grew louder, shriller.
Drawing the cairn stone with her right hand, she focused on the line of pitch torches that burned bright on the perimeter, just a few yards away. Hundreds had been shoved into the ground and lit. They’d brought numerous wagons loaded with torches made with ‘fatwood’ for this journey—resin-soaked pine that would burn all night, and in all weathers.
No one had seen her yet.
Sweating now, she deepened her breathing and attempted to pack her churning thoughts away. Curse it. She didn’t have time for this. She needed to settle her mind. Now.
A shadow dropped from above. A bard’s scream cut off mid-note as claws found her shoulders, lifting her into the darkness.
Urgency slammed into Lara.Do it now!
She tightened her grip on the cairn stone. It warmed against her palm as she extended her left arm, her fingers snapping straight.
With a ‘whoosh’, the flames spurted skyward.
She staggered back, blinking as the gloaming lit up. Gods, she’d never wielded so much fire at one time. The power of it surging through her veins was heady. How easy it would be to succumb, to let it consume her.
Resisting it, she sucked in a deep breath and held it for a few moments—as Ruari had shown her—before slowly exhaling.
Around her, warriors and druids had turned, their gazes alighting upon the black-robed figure who’d just torched the sky. A wall of flames surrounded them now, and the Slew drew back, shrieking.
