Page 88 of The Queen and the Half-blood
TheOrd-ree sealupon her right hand started to pulse like an ember then. Her already racing heart lurched once more. Why did her father’s ring, handed down from ruler to ruler, respond to fire?
Lara contracted her fingers slightly, and the flames dimmed for a heartbeat, before she released her power once more.
Fire exploded from every torch. Flames whipped through the air, turning dusk to blazing gold. A tent caught and went up in seconds.
Did I do that?
The fire had its own hunger now. It lashed in every direction while bards scrambled back from the heat. But the Slew were retreating, their screams fading into the distance.
Her skin felt raw. Sweat ran between her shoulder blades as the power burned through her, demanding more than she couldgive. Her legs trembled. Around her, voices shouted in confusion and fear.
Now.
She crushed her fist closed. Darkness slammed down like a curtain.
In that blind moment, she ran.
The torches flared back to life behind her, but when the warriors turned to find their savior, only empty shadows remained.
“They’re calling you ‘the Fire Wraith’,” Bree murmured as she speared a piece of blood sausage with her eating knife. “Everyone’s convinced the Gods have sent you to protect us.”
Lara swallowed a mouthful of bread before reaching for her cup. She then took a large gulp of wine. “Maybe they have.” She hadn’t considered it before, but what if The Five were behind her in this?
Cailean raised his eyebrows. Indeed, she’d just made a bold statement.
Her skin prickled. If that was the case, their campaign was off to a strong start.
The four of them—Lara, Alar, Bree, and Cailean—ate supper alone in the royal pavilion. Skaal had joined them too, her large body curled up before the brazier behind them. Her gentle snores reverberated through the tent.
The High Queen had deliberately dismissed her attendants so they could talk.
Lara glanced her husband’s way then. He’d said little since they’d sat down to a meal of blood sausage, oaten bread, and cheese. Earlier, she’d just returned to her pavilion, shivering inthe aftermath of wielding fire, when he ducked inside. Turning to him, she’d marked his flustered expression.
Their gazes had locked then, and it dawned on her that he’d been worried about her.
He’d recovered swiftly, smoothing his features and favoring her with a smile, but it was too late. She’d seen it.
“The disguise worked,” she said, meeting his eye.
Alar’s lips quirked. “I told you it would.”
“In the firelight, the mask looked like molten gold,” Cailean replied. Of course, he’d been at the perimeter. He’d watched the scene unfold. “I’m not surprised everyone thinks they saw a wraith.”
Lara’s fingers tightened around her cup. “Next time, I’ll be faster though.” Her pulse quickened then. On the next occasion she faced the Slew, she wouldn’t let them take anyone. That bard’s screams still rang in her ears.
Alar snorted softly as he reached for a piece of bread. “You’ll speed up with practice.”
“Where were you earlier?” Cailean’s gaze now settled upon the prince consort, suspicion darkening his eyes. “You disappeared when we made camp.”
“I was meeting with my wulvers,” Alar replied with a shrug. “Keeping an eye on me, mac Brochan?”
“Always,” Cailean rumbled, staring him down.
Skaal rose from the furs before the brazier then, stretching. A moment later, the fae hound padded over to the table, ignoring the chief-enforcer and pushing her furry cheek up against Alar’s head instead.
Smiling, he stroked her ears before glancing Cailean’s way. “At least Skaal trusts me.”
“She does,” Bree murmured, eyeing the fae hound as she tried to lick Alar’s cheek. “How strange.”
