Page 162 of Atop the Faerie Throne
And for the first time, there are Fomorians amongst their number, just as there were when we crossed the Endless Sea.
Just thinking about the scores of fae spirits we brought back with us from Fellgotha makes my heart twist. Some of them hadbeen there for thousands of years. At least now, they can finally find the same peace that the rest of the realm has been granted.
Annis rides up, her creepy head tilting in a nod that lets Drystan know we’re done. The host is exhausted, as am I, and I lean back into my mate’s strength.
With a nudge of his heels, he spurs Blizzard higher, into the dark and cloudy sky, valravne cawing all around us. It’s not long enough. Time seems to speed up, pressing on my chest as I wait for what I know is coming.
Blizzard rears, but I no longer fear being unseated as I did the last time this happened. The horse’s whinny joins the drumming and cawing of the birds, Wraith lending his own howl to the rest of the barghests’ a half-second before it all stops.
That whip of flame and bone cracks through the darkness, the strike against the veil reverberating through my body like a blow. Just as before, the night sky ripples and tears, revealing the glowing entrance to the Otherworld in all its glory.
This time, the scent of meadows and sunshine is tainted with the taste of salt.
I’m crying, even though I said I wouldn’t.
Bram’s fox-face shimmers as he dismounts, shifting back to his fae form as the rest of the spirits make for the entrance. His cheeks crease into a smile as he looks into the distance, but his face is as wet as mine.
“Goddess bless, little sister,” he finally says, bowing slightly. “Until we meet again.”
“Hug our parents for me,” I reply, proud that there’s only a fine tremor in my voice.
A high fae female with black hair and bright turquoise blue eyes stops beside him, her face somehow familiar, despite my never having met her before. Bram takes her hand, kissing it softly, and they both look back and then down at the city belowone last time, before taking that final step across the threshold together.
The tear in the veil seals, stealing the sweetness from the air. The cold autumn wind returns, stinging my wet cheeks, and Drystan’s arms clench a little tighter around my waist. The rest of the host turns, beginning the ride back to the Sanctuary, and then home, but we remain, unmoving, with Wraith loyally glued to Blizzard’s side.
“If you look too sad, the redcap has plans to present you with a bunch of severed toes on your return,” my dullahan informs me. “He’s speared them onto arrows, painted the nails red, and arranged them into a bouquet.”
“Are you trying to make me feel better by telling me there are dead feet in my future?”
Our bond is thrumming with his concern. “I’m merely warning you, should you feel the need to brace yourself.” One of his hands leaves my waist, digging into his pocket before presenting me with a crisp white handkerchief. “Or you could take this, attend to your face before we leave, and hope that he doesn’t deem such dire measures necessary. I would set the awful thing on fire, but I don’t know that the stench would be much better.”
I giggle, despite myself, and he relaxes as I take the tiny square of fabric. “No need,” I promise, cleaning my face. “It’s sweet, really.”
I’m just grateful that Wraith will happily eat most of the severed body parts before I have to find a vase or something to display them.
“Damned redcap,” he mutters under his breath, finally nudging Blizzard after the rest of the hunt. “If I had known this latest phase of his was going to last this long, I would’ve asked Danu to keep my head to spare me from the stink.”
There’s a pause, and my mind flashes to the image of Bram and the fae female crossing the veil together.
“If you wish to talk about it,” Drystan says, humour dissipating. “I’ll listen.”
I have a sneaking suspicion that Jaro or Bree told him to say that, but I don’t mind. “It will get easier, with time,” I say at last. “Let’s go home.”
The relief that echoes through the bond as Blizzard hastens to catch up with the host prompts me to turn and press my face against his chest in a silent hug. Drystan truly could not be more out of his depth when it comes to my emotions, but he tries, and that’s worth just as much.
I didn’t think that sleep would come easily, but sometime in the middle of the cloudy ride home, I lose the fight to keep my eyes open.
The clatter of hooves on stone and the gentle hum of chatter jolts me awake with a start.
“Go back to sleep,” Drystan murmurs, keeping me in place with one arm while carefully replacing his head with the other. “I’ll take you up to bed.”
All around us, members of the host are slowly dismounting, caught in conversation. The odd few disappear as soon as they can, but the Hunt is definitely more social this year. I want to insist that he stay, but he spoke with most of them before we rode, and I’ve been away from the others for too long already.
I try to do as he asks, but there’s no sleeping through the drowning feeling of being returned to Elfhame, so by the time we reappear in the palace courtyard, I’m fully alert.
Jaro’s arms reach up to take me from the saddle, his lips kissing my forehead.
“You okay?” he asks, lowering me until my feet find solid ground.
