Keeper of Storms (The Fallen Fae #3) - Jenna Wolfhart Page 0,12
were going to say that. You can’t do this, Reyna. You can’t go at it alone. What if a hidden ship blasts you out of the sky?”
She had already thought about every possibility, including that one. She’d spent hours thinking it through. “That might be true, if I planned on flying straight to Findius. But I don’t.”
Thane shook his head in confusion. “Then, where are you going?”
“I’m going to sneak into the Wood Court.” She sucked in a sharp breath, saying out loud the words that would hurtle her straight into another dangerous situation. But she saw no other way. “I’m going to infiltrate their army and find a way to get to Ulaid Molt’s side. So that I can kill him.”
Thane blinked, and then drew himself up as tall as a king. “You can’t kill Ulaid Molt. You’ll be cursed.”
“I’m already cursed, Thane,” she said, thinking of the Ruin and her bargain with Seelie. “What’s a little more when it means that Lorcan and his kingdom will be safe?”
He stared at her for a good long while, his golden strands rustling around his shoulders. It was a bloody brilliant plan. If she could pull it off. Unfortunately, the odds were stacked against her. No one tricked Ulaid Molt.
The Ruin banged its iron fist against her skull, desperate to be heard. She curled her hands into fists and blocked it out. It had tried, time and time again, to convince her to use the storm. She knew why. It wanted to kill her. The moment she let her barriers slip, it would.
“Why do this, Reyna?” Thane asked, his tone insistent. “Why not just fly straight to Lorcan’s side? I know what I said about the hidden ships, but—”
“You’re right about the hidden ships. I can’t fly high enough to avoid being spotted. Trust me, I’ve tested out my flying limitations a lot these past few days. Besides, what would I be bringing him? Nothing.” Tears welling in her eyes, she shook her head. “I want nothing more than to fly straight to his side and wrap my arms around him. But how does that help him? How does trapping myself inside of Findius do him any good? If I can kill the wood king, the threat is over. The war is done. Findius survives.”
And so does Lorcan.
Thane nodded, his jaw tense and hard as steel. “What if Lorcan loses all hope before then? In sheer desperation, he might launch an attack, surrender, flee.”
“I’ll find a way to get a letter to him,” she said. “I’ll tell him what I’m planning. He won’t like it, but he’ll listen.”
“Good. And tell him that reinforcements will be on their way by Beltane. Just in case,” Thane said. “Once we’ve won Tairngire, I’ll convince Sea and Ice to turn south.”
Reyna’s heart pulsed beneath her ribs. “You’ll do that? Help him if I fail?”
She did not plan on failing, of course. Seelie’s magic roared through her veins. The wood king would not stand a chance against that.
“Of course I will,” he said roughly, twisting his tense hands around the parapet. “I will march the warriors south myself if I must.”
Reyna felt a bubble of hope rise in her chest, even as her ludicrous plot loomed before her. Lorcan was in an impossible situation, but she and Thane might just be able to turn the tide. She’d kill the king, and the allied armies would take out any remaining wood fae who rebelled.
“There’s just one more thing I need from you,” she said with a grin.
Thane arched a brow. “You have that look in your eye. Do I even want to ask?”
“Can you find me some dye for my hair, and some servant clothes? I can’t very well infiltrate the wood fae army if I look like Reyna Darragh.”
The tiny village of Comharra sat on a small hill surrounded by fields upon fields of golden wheat. Reyna shielded her eyes against the sun as she trudged along a dirt path that snaked toward the cluster of sagging buildings. Her heart lifted at the sight of it, even if it seemed bathed in a sad mixture of soot and grime. Some of the buildings were built from warped wood, and the edges of timber roofs were blackened from fire.
But not all hope and life was lost here. Tendrils of smoke curled through chimneys, and the scent of baking bread whispered toward her on the incessant wind.
She and Wingallock had set down half a mile back so that