signaled and its frightening import.
“What is it? A wildfire?” Bran questioned.
“No, a far worse animal,” Richard said. “See how the column has such a wide base?”
Bran nodded.
“That is smoke from hundreds of cook fires,” Deirdre said. “And thousands more men sitting around them.”
Arrow Jack cruised overhead, screeching, to land on a blasted tree in front of them.
Richard pointed out what the merlin warned. Just over the top of the plains, giant pointed structures of white, gold, and crimson erupted from the far-off line of emerald grass, their total height lost in the distance. They were the top of massive tents. War tents, Deirdre knew. The tents, coupled with the smoke, indicated what the Seelie Court and its allies were getting into.
“What are they for?” Bran asked.
“Tournament tents,” Deirdre replied. “For the games of jousting and arms Philip is fond of watching. It is how he picks his guard.”
“No longer,” Richard disagreed. “That time has come and gone. Philip has chosen his men and they now cover the plains, waiting for whatever he has planned. Smoke that thick only comes from an enormous host, and we must give it a wide berth.”
“If what you think is true and the numbers are that large, then Philip has amassed all of Annwn to Caer Llion,” Deirdre surmised. “They could not have come from southern Annwn alone. The men of the northern cities have joined him here. Philip must be planning a battle of epic proportions to empty his strongholds in the north.”
“Why no scouts?” Bran asked.
“You don’t need scouts when an army is as large as that one.” Richard squinted. “It seems we best turn westward.”
The tents faded from view as they headed for the border of Dryvyd Wood, avoiding the pillar of smoke. The last dregs of the day swathed them in stale light, and the promise of night solidified as they continued to ride south and west. Insects buzzed and sang to one another, an old song for a new night. Salted air like that found on the coast washed over them suddenly on a soft breeze, reminding Deirdre of trips to the ocean when her mother still lived. Stars twinkled into being. The coming night would be pleasant; it would help her forget the pain that ravaged every jostle upon Willowyn.
Regardless, she kept an eye to the east where the smoke faded into darkness; it was hard to believe a host as large and lethal as the one she knew existed waited mere miles away.
When they crested a rolling hill, even Deirdre, who had been raised around hosts of men, was ill prepared for the sight.
Caer Llion unfolded like a dark promise, a monolithic structure lording over the group from a purpling horizon. Dozens of towers stabbed the sky, connected by numerous parapets at varying levels, and a high wall as tall as Mochdrev Reach protected its innards, unyielding. Rectangles of yellow light flickered from top rooms, alive with inhabitants. At the castle’s base, a town of smaller buildings spread like beggars before a king, pushing up against the wall as if in need. To the north, hundreds and hundreds of giant campfires danced until they vanished over a rise where more assuredly awaited and each undoubtedly had dozens of men surrounding them. It was an awe-inspiring, terrible sight.
“Caer Llion,” Richard said.
“Now what?” Bran asked.
Richard dismounted. “Time we leave Deirdre. And time for me to find our way in.”
“How are you going to do that?” Deirdre asked.
“I am the Heliwr.”
“So?”
“Once, in the early days when Bran’s father was the Heliwr, a banshee slipped by me and into Seattle,” Richard said. “Charles found a patch of bare earth and jammed the Dark Thorn into it. After a few moments he came out of his reverie and knew the direction the woman had gone, up toward Capitol Hill. It didn’t take him long but he found her and ended her threat.” Richard paused. “I have that same power. To find things hidden from me. Like an entrance. Like a creature. Like an artifact. As long as they aren’t masked by magic. I only hope I am capable of doing it and that Philip has not guarded his entrances with spells.”
“At least we aren’t going through the front gate,” Bran mumbled. “That would seem to be pretty asinine, if I do say so.”
“I agree,” Deirdre said. “The front is no good.”
“Something else then,” Richard said. “If I find an entrance.”
“I am going with you, Heliwr,” Snedeker said.
“You cannot,” Richard responded. “Caer Llion has