Page 118 of Across an Endless Sea

Lorcan blinks to my other side, taking the space between Jaro and me. The four of us stand there, staring down at the waste of skin who calls himself Rose’s fifth Guard.

His imperviousness to my attacks is disconcerting.

“Try hitting him,” I tell Lore.

“Ooh, can I use knives?” the redcap asks.

“Start with fists,” Jaro suggests. “I couldn’t hurt him before. If Rose has protected him somehow, you won’t be able to do damage.”

“She hasn’t done shit to protect me,” Caed snorts. “Sure, she’s used her powers on me, but that didn’t prevent them from flaying me alive back in Fellgotha.”

Lore smiles, flashing his pointed teeth before he renders a vicious uppercut to Caed’s jaw.

It connects, and the Fomorian’s head snaps around. Caed curses, spitting blood onto the floor, but I tune him out and frown at Jaro. Without needing to be told, the wolf shifter tries again.

Nothing. His fist glances off.

All three of us turn to Bree.

The púca rolls his eyes, then drives the toe of his boot into Caed’s balls.

The Fomorian collapses, cursing and howling.

“So just us?” I eye Elduin and Cailu speculatively.

“We roughed him up that time in the cells,” Elduin confirms, and his twin pouts.

Caed’s curses turn to cackles. “What’s wrong, dour knight? Afraid you might not be able to kill me when Beltaine rolls around?”

Bree shrugs. “It won’t be an issue if he’s not the one doing the killing.”

“So whatever she’s done, it only affects us,” I say, ignoring their byplay.

“We can’t tell her,” Jaro mumbles. “She’ll be distraught if she thinks she’s using her powers on us without knowing.”

“What gift is it, though?” I reply, Caed forgotten. “Shields are usually more obvious.”

Jaro’s own is a perfect example. Glowing, golden, and very conspicuous.

“It’s not a shield on him,” Jaro agrees. “Or we wouldn’t be the only two affected.”

“You’re forgetting something,” Caed growls.

Then, without telegraphing anything, he swipes his leg out in a move that would’ve taken my ankles out from underneath me.

Yet it doesn’t hit. Instead, he overbalances before he manages to correct himself.

“Well, you can’t fight,” Lore seems unimpressed by the entire turn of events. “Just like Rose asked. Can I get my knives out now?”

“A seelie gift that allows you to control others?” I ask, dumbfounded. “That’s impossible.”

“It’s not impossible,” Bree whispers. “It’s charm.”

His skin has turned ashen beneath his ink, and he actually takes a step back, hands running nervously over his arms.

Charm.

“Told you Rose was shiny,” Lore grins.

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